


VENTURIS VENTIS ~ Band of Brothers

by whoahersheybars



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Band Of Brothers - Freeform, Betrayal, Blood and Violence, Boreas - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Conspiracy, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Easy Company - Freeform, Episode 10 - Points, Episode 2 - Day of Days, Episode 3 - Carentan, Episode 4 - Replacements, Episode 5 - Crossroads, Episode 6 - Bastogne, Episode 7 - The Breaking Point, Episode 8 - The Last Patrol, Episode 9 - Why We Fight, Espionage, Eurus - Freeform, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Government Conspiracy, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Inspired by Greek Mythology, Inspired by Real Events, Lies, NKVD, Notus - Freeform, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Russia, Slow Burn, Soviet Union, The East Wind - Freeform, zephyrus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29655378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoahersheybars/pseuds/whoahersheybars
Summary: Life had a funny habit of destroying happiness. At least, Odessa Tereshkova-Leroux thought so. In her mere nineteen years of life, she had learnt everything there was to know about the injustice of life in her time. It was something she had grown accustomed to; lies and betrayal and a shadowy figure always lurking in the background. Or at least, she thought she knew it all. But life is full of surprises.Odessa certainly did not expect to find herself once again, in the companionship of Easy Company. She swore to herself - as a proud Russian - that Americans were lesser than her. Their vulgarity only reflected their inferiority. Odessa was never very good at admitting when she was wrong, however, this was one of those rare times. Easy Company turned out to be exactly what she was missing.One thing about life Odessa still has yet to learn, is that old lies and broken bonds always return to stab you in the back. When Eurus resurfaces after years in the shadows, everything comes crashing down around her. Odessa doesn't know exactly what the future holds, but she does know one, very important thing:The East Wind is coming, and she will bring destruction.
Relationships: Joseph Liebgott/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. prologue

“Mama, who's Eurus?"

The woman with golden hair glanced over at her youngest daughter, Mira, in alarm. She was sitting on her 'special chair', the one she had claimed ownership of at the age of three. Now she was seven, and constantly asking questions, like any curious child does. But her mother had not been expecting that particular question. At least not so soon. 

“Where'd you hear that name, ma chérie?" the golden haired woman began cautiously, sitting up a little straighter in her armchair. A noise coming from the kitchen door caught her attention, and she looked up to meet the brown eyes of her husband. The look on his face told her he had heard their daughter's question. 

"I found a file. In the attic." Mira answered innocently. "It looked really old and dusty, like an antique. So I picked it up." It wasn't uncommon for the young girl to do something like that. She had an extraordinarily curious mind. 

"Did you read any of it?" the golden haired woman asked softly, her voice barely above a pale whisper. This was what she feared. Her children- who she loved more than anything else in the world- discovering parts of her past she would rather were kept hidden. 

"Only the first page." Mira replied. Then, after a short pause; "Mama, why did it have your name on it?" the woman sucked in a sharp breath. This was it. There were no lies she could tell. Not anymore. 

“Mirabelle, come sit with me." she cooed softly, beckoning her daughter over to the armchair. Mira smiled sweetly and bounded over. 

“Is it story time, mama?" she giggled excitedly, climbing on to her mother's lap. The woman smiled and nodded. Glancing over at her husband, they shared a knowing look. Then he too came to sit on the edge of the armchair. 

"Did you know daddy and I fought in the war?" she asked Mira, who nodded eagerly. The girl had always been fascinated by stories of the war, even though her parents talked about it very little. But Uncle Bill and Uncle Joe were fun. Every time they visited, she would ask them to tell her stories of Normandy and Holland again. There was a new one every time, each one even more exciting than the last. Her favourite was, 'The Night of the Bayonet.' Mira always giggled at how stupid Uncle Tab had been. 

“Well, during my time fighting, I was known by another name." the young girl looked up at her mother with shining, eager eyes. She practically shook with anticipation. She was finally going to hear a story of the war from her mother's perspective. Mira had been waiting and hoping for years. Her curiosity could only be quenched so much by Uncle Bill and Uncle Joe's accounts. Sometimes it would be satisfied for a while when Uncle George told her one of his rare stories about Skip and Penkala (she got the feeling it was hard for him to talk about them). But the little girl craved more. 

"What was that name, mama?" Mira prompted when she fell silent. The golden haired woman bit down hard on her lip, and she glanced up towards her husband momentarily. He was already gazing down at her with sad eyes. They told her it was time. 

"Eurus. My name was Eurus."


	2. her gifts were mixed with good and evil both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odessa escapes from the clutches of four Nazi officers, but at a cost.

_May 30th, 1944 - Saint Marie-du-Mont, Normandy_   
  


Odessa had always been told she had a journey to make. A great _'odyssey'_ filled with adventure and hardship. Her mama would often say; _"You were put on this Earth for a greater purpose, my love. Your odyssey will lead you there."_ It was quite a lot of pressure to put on an eight year old girl, thinking back. Odessa always felt weighed down by it.

Some days she would be so set on her _'odyssey'_ , it became a sort of obsession. Others, she just wanted to forget all about it. When her mama talked about her great journey, she never mentioned what it _actually_ was. Odessa couldn't help but wonder sometimes if it was all a lie; after all, mama had lied to her before.

Quite often, there seemed to be no point in her _'odyssey'_.

Sitting bound to a chair in a dingy basement, surrounded by four pistol wielding Nazi officers, Odessa didn't see the point in it anymore. She had only gone out to buy some bread for her and Daria, but now where was she? Being interrogated by the people very she was _supposed_ to be spying on.

Odessa had seen them around the village. Not very often, but enough to be wary. It never occurred to her that they might already know who she was. After all, to everyone in Saint Marie-du-Mont, she was just Chantelle Beauchamp, the girl who moved in her with her sister last year. The 'Beauchamp's' kept to themselves, so the other villagers paid them little mind, but somehow, the Germans knew exactly who she was. They didn't hesitate to knock her out and tie her up inside that godforsaken basement, no doubt rubbing their hands together greedily as they thought of how much Hitler would pay for her capture.

Odessa wasn't entirely surely what the price on her head was anymore, but she knew it was a lot. Hitler was angry at the loss of some of his best officers, and in his eyes, it was all her fault. Technically, it was her fault, but that was beside the point.

_Thud_.

Odessa's head snapped to the side as a fist collided with her cheek. She could taste the bitter, copper-ish taste of blood. Crimson red and warm. She spat it out.

_"Not so tough now, are you Tereshkova?"_ the Nazi ringleader laughed spitefully, flashing his half-gold, half-rotten teeth in her direction. Odessa's eyes narrowed as she sized him up. He was big; not in a well-built, muscular sense, but rather an excessive amount of body weight. He would be easy to take down. His friends, however, were clearly fighters.

The one gripping the back of the chair she was bound to had arms like tree trunks, and towered over her by at least a foot. But he wasn't the brightest, Odessa could tell. The way he listened to every word Nazi number one spoke like it was the word of whatever deity he believed in, just screamed henchman to her. He would be easy to outsmart.

The one standing in front of her didn't seem quite as dim. A pistol was concealed in the waistband of his trousers - he thought she wouldn't spot it, but she did - and Odessa was pretty sure she could see a dagger hilt poking out of his boot. However, he was relatively small. Maybe only a few inches taller than herself. Odessa had been taught to use every weakness of the enemy to her advantage, and she had been taught well.

The last Nazi was much more difficult to figure out. After being held inside their basement for almost twenty-four hours, she had only seen his face once. It was quite startling; covered in scars and discoloured from something she didn't want to know about. And his eyes. Oh, his eyes. They had the look of someone ruthless and cold, who couldn't care less who he killed. He had the look of an NKVD Agent.

_"Oh, how the Führer will reward me when he discovers how I captured the famous Odessa Tereshkova."_ Nazi number one leered, bending down so he was eye level with his captive. She resisted the urge to spit blood into his face.

_"I wouldn't be so sure of yourself."_ Odessa instead settled with a cold stare, which seemed to make him shrink back a little. His henchmen glanced between each other uneasily.

_"And why is that, little girl?"_ Nazi number one spat. As he rose to a standing position, the German behind her - tree trunk arms - reached forward and gripped her chin roughly in his massive hands. Odessa growled menacingly, but he didn't let go. It was stupid of the henchman really. How was she supposed to reply if his dirty great hands were stopping her mouth from moving? Nazi number one caught on quickly, and gestured for him to release her.

_"Son of a bitch."_ Odessa muttered in Russian as she did her best to loosen the now sore muscles in her jaw. That was going to leave a bruise.

_"How do you know this wasn't my plan all along?"_ she switched back to her accented version of German after a moment, glancing up to meet the gaze of Nazi number one. Another glare had him shrinking back even further.

_"If this was your plan, it didn't work very well. You're our captive now."_ Odessa's head snapped to the side, where the small Nazi was slowly advancing on her. Taking the time to study him a little closer, she was surprised by how young he looked. The man couldn't have been more than twenty-one years old. Then again, who was she to talk? There weren't very many nineteen year old assassins in this part of the world.

_"Who's to say this isn't exactly where I want to be?"_ Odessa decided it was time to have a little fun. She had gone quite a few weeks without any proper action. Her cravings were returning.

_"Why would you want to be here? We have you captured, and we will take you to the Führer."_ Nazi number one said slowly, puzzled by her blasé attitude to her impending death. Odessa simply smirked knowingly. The henchmen shuffled from foot to foot.

_"If you come here, I'll tell you exactly what I have planned."_ she spoke lowly, but in a soft, melodic voice. It was deceivingly sweet, giving the false impression of _trust_. Ugh. _Trust_. Without it, the world would be a safer place. Colder, granted, but safer nonetheless.

Proving her point exactly, Nazi number one slowly inched forwards until his face was merely centimetres from hers. Odessa held back a grimace at the foul smell coming from his mouth. It gave off an odour of cheap cigarettes and whiskey. A horrible combination, really. Somehow, despite the noxious fumes, Odessa managed to maintain her falsely open expression; the one that exuded unwavering trustworthiness. Nazi number one was fooled.

In one sharp movement, Odessa brought her head down to smash into his nose with a sickening crack. Nazi number one fell to the ground, blood gushing onto the floor. Crimson red and warm.

The moment of realisation didn't come to the henchmen for a prolonged moment. They stared between Odessa and their leader in pure shock. Then all hell broke loose.

Tree trunk arms took a swing at her head from behind, but she had long since predicted this in her brief plan of the battle. Grasping the back of the chair, Odessa quickly rolled away from him, using the legs to help her. She was honestly surprised by how well it worked, but she knew fighting the rest of this battle while still strapped to the chair would have been a ludicrous idea. Luckily for her, the ropes used to bound her were weak. It was almost too easy to rip them apart. 

Once free, Odessa turned her attention to the rapidly advancing small Nazi. The dagger she had seen poking out of his boot was now raised high above his head in a stabbing motion. He took a swing, and she dodged away just in time with a smirk painted across her lips. As he swung again, Odessa caught his arm mid move and, using his own momentum against him, twisted his arm up and behind his back until the sickening crack was heard. The small Nazi shrieked in anguish as he fell to the ground, clutching his now broken arm. To be sure he couldn't get up again, Odessa sent a swift kick to the back of his head. Blood pooled onto the floor. Crimson red and warm.

Now for tree trunk arms. He was sprinting towards her, yelling out a battle cry that almost made her snort. The Nazis always had been very over-dramatic, with their slogans and their ideas of 'blood-purity'. It was ridiculous, really. Even Stalin openly agreed that they were idiots.

Odessa had almost gotten distracted. Tree trunk arms was on her now, swinging his great big fists blindly in her vague direction. She hopped backwards onto the balls of her feet - quite a difficult thing to do in Mary Jane's, but she managed - causing tree trunk arms to lose his balance as he punched nothing but the empty space between them. Then with one great leap, her heels were pushing into his chest, and tree trunk arms was falling flat on his back. Odessa's hands pushed off the floor, and she was instantly back on her feet. Another kick to the head. Blood on the floor. Crimson red and warm.

Nazi number one wasn't a threat anymore. He was too busy weeping over his broken nose. Odessa's new priority was the man with the dead eyes. He had hung back in the shadows for the duration of the brief fight; watching, observing. _Judging_. Odessa could tell he was experienced just from the way he analysed her. A fellow Agent. She should have known.

But the man with dead eyes made no move towards her. He stood stock still, staring. It would have made anyone else uncomfortable, anyone except Odessa. Nothing had the ability to unnerve her anymore. She had seen it all.

_"Who are you working for?"_ she asked in heavily accented German. The sound was harsh and coarse on her tongue. Odessa had always preferred French, anyway.

_"No one you will know."_ the man with dead eyes replied. She almost rolled her eyes at his evasiveness.

_"Try me. I know a lot of people."_

_"Not everyone."_ the man's voice was soft and velvety, a stark contrast from his ruined face. He was like her, in a way. They were both ruthless killers, their only job being to hunt down their enemies and wipe them off the face of the Earth. In the end, it all came down to the blackness of their hearts.

Odessa had the blackest heart of all.

The scarred man didn't even see her take out the pistol and aim it right between his eyes. He had no time to even blink before there was a bullet in that exact spot. The shot rang out after he had fallen, or it sounded like that to Odessa. His body slumped like a rag doll onto the hard ground. The basement - which had once been grey - was painted with his blood. Crimson red and cold. Ice cold.  
  
  


✰✰✰  
  
  
  


Odessa only realised _after_ she made it back to her and Daria's cottage that Nazi number one was still alive. She had been too distracted by the swirling red tendrils of blood to notice him writhing about on the floor. Thanks to her stupidity, he was no doubt gathering a squadron to come and storm their house. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

"Daria, we have a problem!" was the first thing she had said upon barging through the front door. It might have been a good idea to at least warn her partner she was back first. The pistol shoved in her face certainly supported that theory.

"Oh, good. You're back."Daria breathed out a sigh of relief, immediately lowering the gun and tucking it into her catsuit's thigh holster. _Her catsuit_. Why was she in uniform.

"Yeah, I had a run in with some Nazis. They--"

"Oh, I know."Daria called over her shoulder as she moved away and into the kitchen, leaving Odessa slightly puzzled. She didn't seem very concerned about the Nazis, or the fact that they were coming for them.

"Wait, how do you know?"the younger woman shouted after her partner, walking briskly into the kitchen. Daria was stood at the table, cleaning all her weapons; pistols, daggers, and even her precious sniper rifle.

"Odessa, you've got blood all over your shoes." she sighed, shaking her head in disapproval. Her young partner had always been on the slightly more reckless side. But leaving evidence on her person was an all new level of stupid.

"I didn't have time to clean them." Odessa mumbled sheepishly, kicking her Mary Jane's into the corner of the room. Daria simply tutted again in disappointment and went back to polishing her second dagger.

Daria Tuleshova was a mystery. She was one of the oldest - and most experienced - Agents in the NKVD, and had certainly seen the most combat out of all of them. In almost every way, she was a legend among the ranks of the intelligence community. Everyone knew the name Daria Tuleshova. But no one really _knew_ her. Not like Odessa did.

Her partner - her _mentor_ \- was the only person in the _world_ she remotely trusted. They had fought together for two years; all the way from Italy to Leningrad. In all that time, Daria had never let her down. The same couldn't be said for anyone else. They weren't friends, but they were the closest either of them had to one. Odessa was grateful for her.

But it was annoying when she treated her like a child.

"Will you just tell me what's going on already?" Odessa groaned, stalking over to stand next to the older woman. Daria stopped polishing for a moment and shot her a death glare.

It was possible her death glares were even more terrifying than Odessa's.

"Well, seen as though you exposed us to the Nazis, I might just not tell you." she retorted drily, her gaze still boring into her young partner's. Odessa let out a loud scoff.

"I didn't expose us! They knew who I was already!" she cried out in exasperation, causing Daria's head to snap up so fast it was a wonder she didn't get whiplash.

"Wait, they knew already?"

"Yes, that's what I said. They just walked up to me in the baker's shop with absolutely no warning, said they needed to take me into questioning and knocked me out with a damn lead pipe when I resisted." Odessa recounted, her brow furrowing in anger. She still couldn't believe they hit her with a bloody _lead pipe_.

"And they knew exactly who you were?" Daria pondered aloud, more to herself than anyone, but Odessa still nodded in reply. The gears soon began turning in the older woman's head, and silence ensued while she thought. Anyone who knew _anything_ about Daria knew not to interrupt while she was thinking. Her reputation for having a short - and explosive - temper was not exaggerated.

Something seemed to click as Daria went from motionless and contemplative, to suddenly very alert. There was something in her eyes too; a hint of panic.

"I received this yesterday. Just after you left for the baker's." the woman spoke quickly, pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of yellow paper from the front of her catsuit. Odessa's eyes widened as she realised what it was; a telegram. She yanked it abruptly from Daria's grasp.

**_One week. Extraction imminent. Be prepared._ **

It didn't give much of a clue as to what was coming, but for Odessa it was enough. There had been many rumours circling around the village for some time now. They said something - or someone - was coming, but it was never clear _who_. The locals didn't seem too sure either, but everyone was aware of it. Even the Germans.

"Do you think this has anything to do with the rumours?" Odessa hissed, glancing around the room to make sure it was only her and Daria. It was, of course, but it never hurt to check.

"I don't know. But we can't stay here any longer." the older woman spoke gravely. She knew the Nazis would be coming for them, now that they had been exposed. There wasn't much time.

"Where will we go?" Odessa enquired, following after Daria as she made her way out into the hallway.

"There's a small hamlet about two miles east of here. It's been abandoned since the occupation. We'll be safe there for now." They made their way into the only bedroom in the small cottage, Odessa to her side of the room, and Daria to hers. Their whole lives essentially resided in that one tiny space. Clothes, notebooks and personal belongings. It was all they had. So naturally, packing didn't take very long.

Odessa and Daria were on the run again. They didn't stop at the sound of soldiers breaking into the place they called home for almost a year. The gunshots were deafening, and getting gradually closer, but to keep moving was their only option. Odessa and Daria had been running since 1939, and five years later, their legs still had not stopped moving. Not once.

There was no time to stop.


	3. we'll start the war from right here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odessa and Daria escape from the Nazis again, only to run into an American paratrooper by the name of Joseph Liebgott.

_June 6th 1944 - the outskirts of Saint Marie-du-Mont, Normandy_   
  
  


Odessa could hear the explosions. The sound of planes plummeting to the ground in a great ball of fire. She could hear the screams of the dead. The rumours had been true, something had come, but it wasn't what anyone expected.

It started in the early hours of the morning. Odessa woke to the sky bathed in an angry orange and red glow, and with the sound of guns in the distance. Big guns. The Germans had been preparing for this. At first she had dismissed it as her imagination, but the number of Nazi soldiers visiting Saint Marie-du-Mont to collect their - unspecified - materials had definitely increased in her last few weeks there. But Daria told her it was nothing to worry about, so she left it alone.

Now the sky was on fire, and there was nothing she could do.

"Do you think it will ever stop?" Odessa whispered to the still figure of her partner beside her. They were sat, huddled closely together by the open window for warmth, simply watching the black clouds erupt into flames. It was like nothing either of them had ever seen before.

"No. I don't think any of this will ever stop." Daria muttered, and Odessa knew she wasn't just talking about the exploding planes. They often spoke about the state of the world at war - generally quite cynically - and asked themselves if they would ever be able to go home. Talking to Daria about it was comforting. It was comforting knowing that she could admit her worries about the future without having to fear the consequences. If she were back in the NKVD Academy, no such freedoms ever would have been permitted.

"I feel for their mothers and fathers." Odessa murmured as yet another plane was brought to the ground. The impact sent up a large ball of fire, high into the air. That one hadn't landed very far from them. It was close in fact, she was sure she could feel the heat radiating off it.

"What are they doing here?" Daria wondered aloud, shaking her head ever so slightly in disbelief at the awful scene in front of her. Odessa turned to look at her partner. The orange flames from the explosion were reflected in her eyes.

"Do you think we should check the radio?" the younger woman suggested after a short spell of silence. Odessa remembered they were told to _'be prepared'_ in the telegram. It had been one week since they received it, and now the sky was alight with flames. It had to be related. They were to play a part in this... hell.

"Yeah. Switch it on, will you?" Daria gestured with a tilt of her head towards the wireless radio sitting atop the windowsill. Odessa complied and turned the dial. There was static for a few moments before she found the frequency all NKVD Agents in the area operated on. It was dead. No one had contacted them. Or, they might have, and they had just missed it. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Should have been prepared.

_"Extraction. One hour."_

Odessa's bowed head snapped upwards, and she locked eyes with Daria. One hour. The radio said _one hour_. One hour until they went out into that hellscape. Into the flames.

_"506th Airborne. Easy Company."_ the radio spoke again. This time, Odessa's eyebrows furrowed. She knew what that meant. They were being assigned to work with another Allied force. Well, that had never happened before. Sure, they had done the odd mission alongside the Red Army, but this was different. This was the _Allies_. They may have been fighting alongside Russia, but that didn't mean Russia trusted them.

Odessa only hoped this 'Easy Company' was good.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends." Daria quoted under her breath, though Odessa heard it loud and clear.

"Once more."  
  
  


✰✰✰  
  
  
  


'Easy Company' were too late. Their only correspondence currently available were absolutely nowhere to be found. Daria certainly was not happy about it. Odessa could tell from the way she was cutting down every German in her path.

The Nazis had taken them by surprise. They stormed their small house from the back door, leaving almost no time to come to their senses. In all honesty, Odessa thought the Germans had known where they were all along, but why they were only attacking now was a mystery to her. It probably had something to do with the burning sky.

There was a growing pile of bodies at Odessa's feet, each one either with a bullet in their head, or a snapped neck. Fighting ordinary soldiers was a bore. She wanted something _challenging_. Not children playing dress up with loaded guns.

The last German Odessa killed had been just that; a child. His face still had a bit of baby fat framing it, and his eyes were young and innocent. She didn't suppose he had seen war for very long. Otherwise his eyes would have been hollow and dead. Like the man with the scars' were. Like hers were. Odessa almost felt sorry for the boy. Then she remembered all the Nazis had done to her, and to her people, and a newfound fury surged through her body.

When Odessa felt that surge, she lost control. Her mind wasn't her own anymore, and she just _killed_. It had only happened a handful of times, but when it did, everyone died. On both sides. Odessa got the feeling she wasn't even Odessa anymore. She was something - someone else. Someone much more dangerous.

_Control it._

She swung her fist at the next advancing soldier, catching him right on the chin. That pivotal spot. The German's legs locked together, and he fell rapidly backwards. Blood painted the wooden floorboards like a piece of horrible art. It was crimson red, both warm and cold. Odessa realised she was bleeding. How had that happened?

There was a sharp pain in her wrist. She looked down to see it sliced open. Then she looked up to meet the eyes of her attacker. Stone cold and ruthless. Perhaps not an Agent, but definitely an experienced soldier. He had seen more of the war than any of the others. Good. Odessa would enjoy killing him even more.

With a crazed shout, the German lunged towards her with his combat knife, slashing blindly and furiously in the air. It wasn't hard to dodge. His movements were slurred from emotion. Emotion is weakness, especially in battle.

Odessa sprang forwards on the counter, her fist cutting upwards to make contact with his gut. The German grunted, but did not fall. He was strong, she granted him that. But she was stronger. So much stronger.

A sloppy punch was caught by her hand, Odessa's twisted the German's fist and ruthlessly pulled his arm upwards. There was a sickening crack, and a cry of anguish. That was her favourite sound of all. The other Odessa's. Her enemies' pain.

A loud gunshot caught her attention, and a familiar shout cut through the air. Daria's body crumpled lifelessly to the floor. Just like a ragdoll. Just like all the other's bodies had. Just like in that dark, cold room, with blood on the walls and his pale form in her lap. Tears dripping onto his sallow skin.

_No_. No, no, NO. Not again.

Odessa smashed the butt of her pistol into the German's head, and he too crumpled to the floor. Blood. Crimson red and warm. Not cold. Odessa turned away from him, and sprinted to Daria. Three bullets were enough to take care of the remaining enemies. She didn't even need to face the targets.

"Daria!" Odessa cried, collapsing to her knees by the older woman's side. Her partner's glassy eyes gazed up at her. She smiled. Why did she smile?

"No. Please, no." there was blood seeping through the front of Daria's catsuit. It stained the thick material an ugly reddish-brown. The air was heavy with that awful, metallic smell. She hated it so much. So so so much.

"Daria, come on! Stay with me!" Odessa cried helplessly. The woman's eyes were dulling quicker by the second, the light fading, fading, fading forever. She couldn't let it fade. She _couldn't_. Daria was the one person in this cold, cruel world she actually _trusted_. The one person who _understood_ what it was like to wield the power she did. Daria was her mentor, her _friend_ , and she couldn't lose her.

"You're alright. You're alright." Odessa muttered, more to ease her own worries than Daria's, but that didn't matter. Sucking in a shaky breath, she examined the wound. It was bleeding freely from a hole in her side. Odessa couldn't tell if there was an exit wound or not. If there wasn't, she didn't know what she would do. How do you even go about removing a bullet?

"Daria. Daria, look at me." Odessa grasped her partner's face in her hands, and Daria gazed dazedly up at her. _The blood loss_. She needed to stop the blood. Stop the blood, save the life. Odessa pressed her hand into Daria's wound, trying her best to ignore the piercing shriek, and the feeling of sticky red liquid on her fingers. It was warm, but then again it wasn't really. Daria's blood was as cold as ice. Just like Odessa's was.

"Daria, I need you to focus on me. I know it hurts, but you need to stay awake. Can you do that for me, Daria?" Odessa felt like she was talking too much, but her partner's shrieking came to a sudden stop. Her face was twisted with the effort, but Daria managed to hold back her cries. Control was the key to victory. They had been taught that important fact from a young age. It wasn't something one easily forgot.

"Okay. Do you remember, just before you fell to the ground, do you remember where the bullet hit you?" Odessa breathed out, continuing to apply pressure to the wound. Despite the obvious pain Daria was in, she somehow managed to speak.

"Behind. The bastard shot me from behind. Fucking coward." Odessa let out a sharp bark at laughter at her less than ladylike response. There was relief within it as well. At least now she knew she wouldn't have to go digging around for a bullet in Daria's stomach.

"Okay. That's good. Now I just need to figure out how to stop the bleeding..." Odessa trailed off, her eyes wandering towards the nearby corpse of a German soldier. If she was lucky, he would have an aid kit on his person. A bit of rummaging around proved that Odessa was indeed lucky. At least for the moment, anyway.

"Alright, Daria. I'm going to bandage your wound now. Can you try and sit up for me?" she asked her partner softly, who slowly rose up onto her elbows. That was as far as she could go, however, before the pain became too unbearable. Odessa would just have to make do.

It was surprisingly often the young woman found herself cursing the NKVD for not teaching them basic medical skills. They certainly would have helped them on quite a few missions. But then again, assassins were expendable. There were always more orphaned children to steal off the streets. Russia was not in short supply of them, certainly not now. But still, knowing how to dress a wound would have been useful.

Odessa thought she had done quite a good job, given the circumstances. There was a small bloodstain from Daria's wound, but most of the bleeding had stopped. The bandage was surely better for it than her hands had been.

"There. All patched up. Do you think you can stand?" Odessa asked her partner cautiously, searching her face for any sign of pain. It was still there in traces, but Daria looked more peaceful. In answer to her previous question, the woman slowly sat up, wincing only a little bit from the gunshot wound in her side. Odessa held out a hand, and she grasped it. Together, the two made their way outside into the streets of the ruined hamlet, Daria leaning on her young partner for support.

The sky seemed to glow even more fiercely orange than before. Odessa could only assume it was because more planes had been shot down. There were no more now, though. For the moment, anyway. She had no doubt more would come. If it was an invasion like she suspected, hundreds of thousands of soldiers would land on Normandy's beaches. It was about time, too.

Despite the sound of muffled gunshots in the distance, all was relatively peaceful. The woods outside the abandoned hamlet helped slightly, it being so dense and thick, but the fighting was definitely dying down. Odessa breathed in the soothing smell of pine as her and Daria hobbled along through the forest undergrowth. Nature was such a beautiful, pure creation, even in a place like Normandy. A reminder that God created the Earth a paradise. Humanity was the problem. Odessa didn't know if the thought comforted her, or made her uneasy.

"Do you know where we're going?" Daria's hushed whisper cut through the silence. It sounded horribly loud in comparison, and Odessa winced.

"As far away from the Nazis as possible. Don't worry, I've got this under control." she flashed a reassuring smile in Daria's direction, who arched one eyebrow, but ultimately said nothing.

"This isn't how I pictured today going." the older woman winced slightly as her wound caught on the utility belt of her partner's catsuit. Odessa muttered a quiet apology.

"How did you picture it?"

"I'm not sure. But not this." Daria chuckled drily. "I guess it would have been nice if this 'Easy Company' actually showed up."

"I agree. You reckon they're British? The Brits never did like us much. Wouldn't be surprised if they left us here on purpose." Odessa scoffed in reply, a small smile creeping its way onto her lips.

"Maybe. Or it could be the Americans. I heard they were supposed to be joining the fight soon."

"About damn time. Bloody Americans." she muttered darkly, triggering a bark of laughter from Daria. But it soon died in her throat, at the sound of a twig snapping behind them.

Odessa's pistol was loaded and aimed in record time, pointing threateningly in the direction she thought the sound came from. It was far too dark to make out anything other than a faint silhouette. A tall, slim one. With a helmet. A soldier.

"Come out with your hands above your head, and I promise no one gets hurt."Odessa called out to the figure calmly, her melodic voice carrying on the soft breeze. But there was no reply. She glanced warily at Daria. Maybe the soldier didn't speak Russian?

_"Do you understand me?"_ Odessa tried again, this time in French. The figure shuffled to the side, but still no reply.

_"What about English? Do you speak English?"_ this seemed to evoke a reaction. The silhouette stuttered, stumbling over his words, but he spoke nevertheless.

_"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I speak English."_ Came the reply. Odessa groaned as she recognised the man's accent.

"Bloody Americans." she muttered under her breath, triggering a soft chuckle from Daria.

_"Okay, now come out with your hands above your head."_ Odessa swallowed her grin, looking away from her partner and back towards the figure. There was a faint shuffling noise, before he stepped out from the shadows.

This man didn't look like any Americans she had met - not that she had much to go off. He was tall and lanky, and had the look of someone who had gained rather a lot of muscle mass in a short period of time. Black paint covered his face - the Americans' attempt at camouflage, she supposed - although it was smudged in places and completely worn off in others. His hair - from what she could see - was a mop of brown curls, partially covered by his helmet, although a few particularly long strands hung over his forehead. Easily the American's most prominent feature, were his eyes. They were large, and a deep chocolate brown colour. They held such a myriad of emotions it was dizzying. Her eyes had been like that once.

_"What's your name, soldier?"_ Odessa asked the American, lowering her pistol only so she could see him more clearly. The man took a cautious step forward, his hands still raised above his head.

_"Liebgott. Joseph Liebgott."_ he replied with a confidence Odessa had not been expecting. Arching her eyebrow, her pistol lowered all the way to the ground. A nod indicated that it was okay for him to put his hands down, so he did.

_"Are you part of the invasion, Liebgott?"_ Odessa took a step towards the American purely out of curiosity. She could feel Daria shaking her head in the background, but for once, she ignored her. 

_"Yes. D-Day ma'am_." Liebgott replied with a nod. The two Russian women turned to one another with puzzled expressions.

_"D-Day? What's D-Day?_ " Daria hobbled forward to stand beside her partner, eyes narrowed into slits. Liebgott tilted his head to the side, mirroring their confusion.

_"You mean you don't know?"_ he asked incredulously, his cheeks puffing out when they shook their heads.

_"D-Day is - uh - Operation Overlord. The planned invasion of Normandy."_

_"And who takes part in the invasion?"_ Daria continued to press, becoming even more suspicious by the minute. She didn't understand why they had not been told of such an event, and neither did Odessa.

_"Us - the Americans, I mean, the Brits and the Canadians, I think."_ Liebgott informed them. The two Russian women glanced at each other again, their eyes wide.

_"About damn time."_ Odessa snorted, a huge wave of relief washing over her. Daria let out a sharp laugh. She couldn't quite believe it either.

_"Sorry, who are you exactly?"_ But their expressions hardened and Liebgott's question. It would have been perfectly acceptable, if it weren't for the clear sarcastic undertones in his voice.

_"Agent Daria Tuleshova. Soviet Intelligence."_ Daria introduced coldly, her unwavering gaze making Liebgott shrink back a little. She smirked.

_"And you?"_ he turned to Odessa with as even a voice as he could manage. The Russian woman regarded him with a hard stare. There was something about this American she couldn't quite figure out.

_"Odessa. Odessa Tereshkova."_


	4. it was my letting go that gave me a better hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odessa, Daria and Joseph race to make it to Sainte-Mère-Église in time.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Odessa asked for the third time in the space of ten minutes. They seemed to have been walking around in circles for days on end, making absolutely no progress whatsoever. She swore they had passed the same tree to her left only thirty seconds ago. 

"Yes, I know where I'm going." Liebgott hissed in reply, and it took everything Odessa had not to punch him there and then. Every time his reply was the same, he _definitely_ knew the way. No, he was just too stubborn to admit they were lost. 

Odessa didn't even know where they were supposed to be going. Her and Daria's radio was still inside their house in the hamlet, which had no doubt been burned to the ground by Germans already. They had no way of contacting their superiors, no way of finding any nearby Operatives, and no way of getting Daria any medical attention. The blood had begun to seep through the bandage, and she was in a great amount of pain. Odessa wasn't sure how much further they would be able to go before she collapsed from the blood loss. And Joseph Liebgott wasn't helping at all. He hadn't even told them where his destination was. It could have been bloody Berlin for all she knew. 

In short, they were screwed. 

"Are you _sure_ you know the way? Because it seems to me like we're going in--"

"Oh, will you please just back off?" Out of nowhere, Liebgott rounded on her with an angry snarl. Odessa took a step back, glancing warily at their surroundings. His voice had risen enough to alert anyone who might be in the area. _Stupid, stupid Americans_. 

"I just want to know where exactly we're supposed to be going. Daria's injured, and I need to get her help." Odessa told him as calmly as she could, although it took a lot of effort not to snap. Liebgott's angry expression softened slightly, and he ran a hand over his face. 

"You wanna know where we're going? Fine." the American sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Sainte-Mère-Église. It's a town, or a commune, or whatever the French call it. We were supposed to drop along the beach and make our way there, but we've been scattered." 

"Who's we?" Daria chose to interject, her eyes once again narrowed in suspicion. Just like Odessa, she didn't trust very easily. Least of all Americans. 

"My company. Easy Company." Liebgott replied, and both Russian women's eyes widened. They couldn't believe their luck. 

"We were supposed to meet with Easy Company."

"Wait, you were?" 

"Yes. We received this telegram from our commander last week," Odessa retrieved the yellowing piece of paper from the front of her catsuit and quickly flashed it in Liebgott's direction, "And a radio transmission from a few hours ago told us your company was in charge of our extraction. Easy Company, 506th Airborne." she recounted in hurried English, some of her words slurring together slightly. Liebgott still seemed to understand, however. 

"Well I wasn't told about any extraction, but if there was supposed to be one, Lieutenant Nixon's your guy." he noted, Odessa's eyebrow raising slightly at his words. 

"Lieutenant Nixon?"

"Yeah. He's our intelligence officer. If anyone from Easy were gonna organise something like that, it would be him." 

Odessa shot Daria a brief sideways glance. The older woman was staring at Liebgott intently, her gaze still ice cold. It was clear she was wary of him. Odessa was too, but if there were even the _slightest_ chance he would be able to take them to safety, she would follow him. Maybe that was a mistake on her part, but Odessa was willing to do just about anything so long as it meant Daria would get the medical attention she needed. The wound in her side was beginning to concern her. 

"How far away is Sainte-Mère-Église?" Odessa turned back to Liebgott, who's gaze was still trained on the ground. Most likely he could feel Daria glaring at him and was too afraid to look up. 

"That's the thing. When we dropped from the plane, I was blown off course. Landed way outside the Drop Zone." Odessa narrowed her eyes, and Liebgott shuffled uncomfortably. 

"So you _don't_ know the way."

"I _do_. It's just going to take much longer to get there."

"Then we'd better get walking." said Odessa, turning away from the American so Daria could lean on her once more. The older woman rolled her eyes - she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself - but let Odessa take most of the weight anyway. She wouldn't have taken no for an answer. 

The silence was thick as the trio of misfits walked. Twisting trees branches often got in the way, triggering muttered curses from whoever they tripped, but those were the only words spoken. Odessa used to hate the quiet. As a child, she loved talking. It was her favourite pastime; sharing her opinion on anything and everything that popped into her head. But the NKVD forced her to grow up. And now she didn't speak much anymore. 

Words couldn't express what she thought. There were simply not enough of them. So Odessa settled for none. Sometimes keeping quiet was for the best. 

Gradually, Daria's steps became shorter and shorter, more detached. Her wound was bleeding freely once again, soaking straight through the bandage and even dampening Odessa's side a little. But she maintained her usual stoicism, not letting the pain show on her face for one moment. Although it didn't stop either Odessa or Liebgott shooting her concerned glances every once in a while, they both admired her grit. They could only hope she would be able to last until Sainte-Mère-Église was in sight. 

The funny thing about walking in absolute silence was that every sound that normally wouldn't have even been noticed, suddenly became as loud as a gunshot. In Odessa, Daria and Liebgott's case, that was both a blessing and a curse. When the sound first came, none of them were expecting it, although they perhaps should have been. The voices echoing through the trees were distinctly German, and almost obnoxiously loud. Or maybe it was just because of the silence.

"Get behind those trees!" Daria was the first to react, wildly gesturing towards the very conveniently placed group of trees. They were bunched together very closely, providing perfect cover to hide from the approaching Germans. It seemed their luck was endless. 

Odessa almost had to drag Liebgott into the trees when he didn't at first move. It was a sure sign of his inexperience; freezing in the face of the enemy was not uncommon, and unfortunately, it cost a lot of lives. The ordinary soldiers may have been trained for battle, but nothing could prepare them for what it was actually like. 

The German voices were fast approaching now. There seemed to be quite a few of them, as well. Odessa could make out at least five silhouettes emerge from the shadows. In the dark it was difficult to make out, but they all seemed to only be regular soldiers. Not like the man with the dead eyes. The way they were laughing as though they weren't walking through a warzone was enough indication to reassure Odessa. She could take them down without Daria. 

Her body was rigid as the Germans emerged fully into the clearing. She was poised and ready; ready for battle. Liebgott's eyes widened as she glanced at him. The intent was clear in her eyes. He tried to shake his head, to hold her back, _anything_ that would stop her, but it was no use. Odessa was already leaving the cover of the trees. 

The snap of a twig was what alerted the first German to her presence. He whirled around with wild eyes, brandishing his bayonet, and Odessa was once again taken back by the soldier's age. He was nothing but a _boy_. But she wasn't programmed to show mercy. A powerful roundhouse kick sent his weapon clattering to the ground before he could even react. Then a knee to the groin sent him doubling over in pain. One shot to the head, and Odessa moved on to her next target, blood pouring onto the ground in her wake. 

The second German was of a bigger build, with broad shoulders and a strong stance that she knew would stay strong even in the face of one of her attacks. The man made the first move, swinging at her with his rifle and bayonet also attached. She dodged quickly, delivering a punch to his now unguarded torso. To her surprise, the German merely grunted before swinging yet again, this time straight at her face. Something the NKVD had instilled in Odessa from a young age, was that momentum could be your own worst enemy in battle. One miscalculated move, and it could give the enemy a huge advantage. The German obviously hadn't been taught that. The swing overbalanced him, allowing Odessa to catch hold of his rifle and ram it into his nose. There came a sickening crack, and he fell to the floor. One shot to the head. Blood on the floor. 

The German had managed to stall her just long enough for one of his friends to gain the upper hand. He came from behind, aiming the butt of his rifle at her head. Before it could make contact, Odessa sent a hard kick to the soft flesh of his stomach. He bent over double, groaning loudly, but she gave him no time to recover. Using his bent knee as leverage, her legs hooked around his neck, and with one sharp twist, the tell-tale snap echoed through the forest. The soldier fell, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. 

Odessa looked up to see the remaining two soldiers staring at their dead comrade in horror. Using their distraction against them, she swept the first man's legs out from underneath him. He let out a yelp of alarm and fell to the floor with a thud. Then came the other soldier - a mere Private - who approached her timidly. He was so small and skinny it was a wonder the German Army even let him in. Odessa pitied him. The least she could do was make his death quick. One bullet to the head, and he never even felt a thing. 

Taking her by surprise, a cold, slimy hand shot out from somewhere behind her and wrapped tightly around Odessa's neck. This soldier knew what he was doing. His fingers automatically pressed into her windpipe, and she would have been impressed if it weren't for the sudden lack of oxygen. Odessa's elbow shot out and cracked into his ribcage, but the German still kept an iron grip around her neck. The blood rushed straight to her head, almost too rapidly, and she realised she had to do something very quickly. Odessa quietly thanked every deity she could think of, reaching down towards her utility belt at the same time. Normally her daggers were concealed in her combat boots, but it seemed she had forgotten about all but one of them, which hung down by her side. The German shrieked as Odessa plunged the blade deep into his side, and the iron grip finally loosened. She could breathe again. Sucking in a lungful of air, she whirled around with her fists raised, ready to face whatever next came her way. But Daria got there first. A deafening _'bang'_ reverberated through the still night air, and the German fell with a hole straight through his head. Odessa felt blood splatter across her face, warm and sticky. A hand reached up to touch it, and that hand came away crimson red. 

"Who the hell _are_ you people?!" Odessa's head shot up, and she met the gaze of Joseph Liebgott. His eyes were flitting between her and Daria, the movements rapid and erratic and _panicked_. He looked afraid of them. Odessa didn't understand it. Had they not just saved his life? 

"We already told you our names." she spoke in a monotone voice, once again reaching up to wipe the blood from her face. It was already drying into sticky, congealed clumps. 

"No, I don't mean your names, I mean who _are_ you?!" Liebgott's voice ratcheted up a few octaves, and he ran a hand over his face again. Odessa glanced at Daria, arching an eyebrow questioningly. _'Do you know what he's talking about?'_ it said, but the older woman just shrugged. 

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand--"

"Ya know, when you said, 'Agent', I thought you meant an intelligence officer like Nixon. Someone who gets the information for missions, and stuff like that. But _that_ \--" Liebgott pointed a shaking finger down at the dead bodies by Odessa's feet, "That's not what Nixon does. That's - that's like the stuff you see in the goddamn movies! It don't happen in real life, that's _why_ it's in the movies!" Liebgott was becoming hysterical now. He had taken his helmet off and was running a hand through his dark curls. Odessa realised with a start, that if she didn't stop him soon, he was going to end up alerting the whole German Army to their position. Darting across the open space, Odessa slammed Liebgott's back against the tree behind him, placing a hand roughly over his mouth.

"You need to calm down. We are on your side, remember?" she spoke lowly, almost threateningly. There was a dangerous glint in her eye that even made Daria look uncomfortable. Hastily, Liebgott nodded his head, and Odessa slowly removed her hand from his mouth, although she made no attempt to step back. 

"All you need to know about us is that we work separately from the Army. What we do is none of your concern. Do you understand?" Liebgott nodded vigorously again, not daring to open his mouth. Odessa slowly took one step back, allowing him some room to breathe a sigh of relief. Without another word, she turned to Daria. 

_"I had it under control."_ the young woman muttered as she slung her partner's arm over her shoulder. Daria let out a barely concealed scoff. 

_"Please. I saved your life."_ she teased, nudging Odessa's side a little, who did nothing other than scowl playfully. The two lapsed into a comfortable silence as they once again set on their way, Liebgott walking a few paces ahead. 

Light was beginning to return to the sky, although a faint orange glow still remained. Odessa only had a vague idea of where they were headed, having glimpsed the map of Normandy during their mission briefing, but other than that she had no idea where they were. Every tree looked exactly the same to her, like they were walking but gaining no actual distance. It was maddening, having to place her trust in someone she had met less than an hour ago. But Joseph Liebgott was their only way to safety, so she had to follow him. 

Odessa had generally never trusted anyone other than herself. Being suspicious of everyone and everything was the only way anyone survived in the NKVD. Relying on others was dangerous, more dangerous than a gun to the head. You could never trust people not to stab you in the back, Odessa knew that better than almost anyone. She had lost count of how many times she had been fucked over by someone she thought was trustworthy. Traitors came in all shapes and sizes, quite often the ones you least expected. Those who's very beings radiated security and kindness were the most ruthless of all. They never thought twice about turning on the people around them, only for their own selfish need to live. 

No, Odessa didn't trust very easily. People had a funny habit of not turning out to be who she thought they were. 

✰✰✰

Odessa had never been more sure of anything in her life. Daria wasn't going to make it Sainte-Mère-Église. Every step she took seemed to be heavier, clunkier, more filled with the promise of a fall. They had been walking for - what felt like - hours, and still didn't seem any closer to their destination. Odessa didn't want to believe that they would be too late, but it was becoming more and more likely. And she was _scared_. 

"Shouldn't we be there by now?" the young woman called out to Liebgott, who was still walking at a steady pace just ahead of them. At the sound of her voice, he came to stop. 

"I don't know. I thought we would'a been." the man drawled, fishing a cigarette out of the pack Odessa had noticed sticking out of his trouser pocket. She frowned angrily as Liebgott lit the end of the stick. He was choosing _now_ to smoke? 

"Well have we gone off course?" the Russian woman pushed, one eyebrow arching expectantly. But Liebgott didn't reply, simply taking one big drag from his cigarette. 

"Are you listening to me?"

"Jesus, lady, ya sure do ask a lot of questions." he spat, eyes snapping in Odessa's direction momentarily, but not holding her gaze. Liebgott scowled, throwing his half used cigarette to the floor and crushing it beneath his heel. Odessa could only watch in distaste. 

"Well excuse me if I don't want to hang around in the open any longer. There are only about a thousand Germans surrounding us right now, but don't worry! I'm sure they're friendly!" she exclaimed cheerfully, although there was a hard bitterness to her voice that made Liebgott recoil slightly. 

"Alright, alright. Jesus." he muttered, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. Odessa opened her mouth to reply with something scathing, but a glare from Daria was enough to make her close it again. 

"Let's just keep moving." the older woman commanded in a hoarse voice. It sounded considerable weaker than the last time she had spoken, as well. Odessa and Liebgott glanced at each other, concern etched across their features. Deciding to put aside their petty squabble, the two nodded in unison and set off on their way again, maintaining the same steady pace as before. 

They didn't get very far. 

"Flash!" a voice called out into the night, freezing the trio in place. Odessa reflexively reached down towards the pistol strapped to her thigh, but Liebgott waved a hand in her direction, indicating for her to stand down. She begrudgingly let her arm go limp. 

"Thunder!" the American hissed in the direction of the first voice. Odessa frowned, not understanding his words. Then there was a rustling in the bushes, and another US soldier emerged into the clearing. 

This one was taller than Liebgott - though only by a few inches - and his face was also covered in black paint. Although a helmet covered most of his hair, she could make out a few dark strands sticking to his forehead. He looked like any regular soldier, apart from the singular silver bar on the front of his uniform, which Odessa knew signified the rank of a First Lieutenant. Letting her gaze travel up to his face, she found he was already staring at her. His cold, piercing blue eyes would have intimidated anyone. But Odessa wasn't anyone. 

"Lieutenant Speirs, sir." Liebgott greeted the officer with a half-hearted salute and a nod. Speirs didn't bother to return it. 

"Who are you?" he asked bluntly, folding his arms across his chest. Odessa narrowed her eyes, taking in the rifle slung over his shoulder, and the knives she had no doubt were concealed in his boots. This man was a fighter. 

"Odessa Tereshkova. Soviet Intelligence." she introduced with a curt nod, "And this is my partner, Daria Tuleshova." Upon hearing her name, the older woman perked up slightly, and managed to muster up a weak glare aimed towards Speirs. Odessa swallowed her grin. 

"Shouldn't you two be in Russia?" the Lieutenant continued, not even bothering to introduce himself. The small smile fell from her face, and in its place formed an angry scowl. 

"The Red Army is enough to defend our country. Besides, that is not our job." Odessa told him coldly, her eyes glinting with that familiar danger. Liebgott shuffled uncomfortably. 

"Then what is your job?" Speirs pushed again, his eyes narrowing into slits. Beside her, Daria stiffened a little. That was enough indication that she needed to shut the nosy American down. 

"That's none of your business, Lieutenant." Odessa all but growled, her chin tilting upwards defiantly. She may have been small, but there was just _something_ about her that made people shrink back with just one look. There was something dangerous in her eyes. Speirs cleared his throat and took a small step back. 

"Your friend. She's injured." he quickly changed the subject, gesturing to Daria's almost limp form. Most of her weight was on Odessa's right side, and she was leaning on her like a crutch. 

"Yes. And if we don't get to Sainte-Mère-Église soon, she's going to bleed out." the younger woman responded with a grim bluntness in her tone, one which caught both Speirs and Liebgott a little by surprise. 

"Lucky for you, we're less than a mile out." the Lieutenant was the first to reply, his eyes studying Odessa's face intently, like he was trying to figure her out. He wouldn't succeed. 

"Are you sure?" the Russian woman checked, just to be sure this man wouldn't lead her astray like Liebgott had. Speirs only nodded in response. That would have to do. 

"Then let's get going." 

"Alright."

"Alright."

There was an awkward sort of tension between the trio turned group of four. The arrival of Speirs had Odessa and Daria on edge, and for good reason. There was something in his face that reminded them of the NKVD. It wasn't his eyes, per se, although they were cold and ruthless and unsympathetic. No, not his eyes. It wasn't the way he held himself either; with an air of arrogance that screamed _danger_. This man certainly was dangerous, but that still wasn't what reminded them of the NKVD. It was his smile. His smile was cold and mocking. Odessa had only seen a very brief glimpse of it out of the corner of her eye - when Daria had attempted to glare at him - but that one small smile had chilled her to the bone. It was _deadly_. 

The tension didn't dissipate. In fact, it only seemed to thicken. As the terrain changed from tall trees to marshy fields, Odessa just couldn't shake the feeling of dread. Liebgott - who was walking beside her - could almost feel the unease radiating from her body. Her shoulders were tensed up, and her eyes concentrated almost _too_ hard on the ground. Even Daria seemed to be aware of it, even in her disoriented state. Liebgott didn't know what had caused their sudden discomfort, but it confused him to say the least. Both women were puzzles he couldn't quite figure out. 

When Odessa finally saw the sign indicating they had entered Sainte-Mère-Église, she almost jumped for joy. Daria was still conscious - although barely - and still had the energy to stand with only a little support. The two limped into the village square with Liebgott and Speirs in tow, eyes searching out a spot to sit and rest. There weren't many places, given they were almost all occupied by American soldiers, but Odessa managed to find a small grass bank and set Daria down carefully. 

"I'll go get a medic." Liebgott muttered, catching the younger woman's eye briefly to make sure she had heard, then turned and disappeared into the crowd of Americans. Glancing around, Odessa quickly discovered - to her great relief - that Speirs was nowhere to be seen. She let out a sigh, and a weight seemed to lift from her shoulders. She had done it. Daria was going to be okay. 

_"You could have just left me, you know."_ Odessa's eyes snapped open at the small voice coming from beside her. Daria was gazing across the busy village square, her eyes a little glazed over and unfocussed, but still as sharp as ever, she noticed. 

_"What are you talking about?"_ Odessa laughed, but upon seeing Daria's deadly serious expression, fell quiet. 

_"You know what I'm talking about. An injured Agent is a liability. You know the risks, Odessa. You should have just left me."_ Daria murmured, her gaze falling to the ground. Odessa's mouth dropped open in pure disbelief. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them that one doesn't go anywhere without the other. It had always been that way since they started working together in 1942. Odessa at least thought Daria would respect that rule. 

_"I wasn't about to leave you there to die."_ the young woman spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper. _"We've been through too much together for me to just leave you, surely you know that?"_ Odessa turned to stare at Daria, willing her to look back. Praying for some kind of response. Because if she had wanted her to leave her there to die, who was to say Daria wouldn't have left her if the roles were reversed? Who was to say the trust they had built for two years didn't mean nothing to her? Odessa prayed for a response, _anything_ to reassure her. But there was nothing. Daria simply kept her gaze on the ground. 

"Are you Odessa Tereshkova?" the young woman looked away from her partner slowly to meet the eyes of a dark haired American soldier with a medic's armband on his uniform. The man had a surprisingly deep voice and an accent Odessa didn't think she had ever heard before. It was soothing. 

"Yes. Are you the medic?" Odessa answered when she remembered he had asked her a question. The American nodded distractedly, his attention no longer on her as Daria let out a loud cry. He jumped up quickly and kneeled by the older woman's side. Odessa watched him examine the wound with light, careful fingers, and marvelled at all the _good_ they were able to do. In all her life, she had only known hands that kill. Yet his had the ability to heal. Odessa wished her hands were like that. 

The medic was quick to assess the situation, and decided Daria needed to be taken back to their makeshift aid station. He commanded the men around him - some of them his superior officers - with a sort of calm authority Odessa had not seen before. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn't have trusted them to take care of Daria. But this medic had managed to impress her, and that was no mean feat. She knew - even as her partner was being carried away on a flimsy looking stretcher - that Daria was in good hands. And that was all Odessa needed to know. 

"Wait!" the young woman called out to the retreating form of the nameless medic. He whirled around on the spot, an eyebrow arched expectantly. 

"What's your name?"

The medic smiled a little, meeting her gaze across the small stone pathway. He paused for a moment to place his helmet back on his head. Then he looked up again. 

"My name's Eugene. Eugene Roe." Now it was Odessa's turn to smile. The gesture was foreign to her, but at the same time it seemed like a natural reaction. Mama always said she had a nice smile. 

"Thank you, Eugene." the young woman told him sincerely, and for a moment, the ice in her eyes seemed to thaw a little. Eugene smiled, but didn't reply. And then he disappeared amongst the swarm of American soldiers. 

Sitting down on the grass embankment, Odessa didn't feel quite so empty anymore. Although their goodbye had not been quite what she expected, Daria was going to be okay. That was what mattered. Letting out a sigh, Odessa leaned her head back against the grass, closing her eyes only for a brief moment. The darkness disappeared for a moment, and she saw Daria. And Eugene Roe's healing hands. 


	5. great is the guilt of an unnecessary war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odessa fights alongside Easy Company in the battle of Brécourt Manor

**ODESSA WOULD HAVE APPRECIATED SOME TIME TO HERSELF.** Some time to sit and process everything. It was funny how everything seemed to change in the space of one day. Her life had been turned upside in less than two minutes when she was a child, and now there was that familiar feeling of falling again; falling, with no control as to where she would land. If she would even land at all. Or if she would just continue to fall, down into the deep, black abyss.

Odessa just wanted to sit.

"Agent Tereshkova, I presume?"

Her eyes peeled open almost painfully slowly, and she squinted a little at the bright sunlight. Raising a hand to shield her eyes, Odessa let out a weary sigh. There Americans like to disturb her at the worst moments, it seemed. There was one standing in front of her now. He had dark hair, and dark eyes to match. His lips were quirked up into a half smirk. Almost mocking. Odessa's eyes flitted to the singular gold bar pinned to the front of his uniform. That made him a second Lieutenant. She looked up.

"Yes. And who are you?" Despite Odessa's icy tone, the American's smirk widened, and something glinted in his eyes. She couldn't quite make out what it was.

"Lewis Nixon. My friends call me Nix." he introduced, rather informally for someone of his rank, Odessa noted. But she forgot all about that when it occurred to her exactly who this man was.

"Nixon. The intelligence officer?" she sat up a little straighter against the grass embankment, wincing a little at the stiffness in her back. It only showed how long she had been lying there for.

"The one and only." Nixon grinned, his eyes glinting again. Odessa arched on eyebrow, unamused, and the American's smile fell.

"Huh. Liebgott wasn't kidding. You really are uptight." he muttered, folding his arms across his chest. The Russian woman's eyes narrowed angrily, and she shot up quickly from her seated position.

"I'm not uptight. My friend was bleeding out and he was smoking a bloody cigarette. It was a perfectly natural reaction." Odessa defended, then realised she was acting childishly, and fell silent. But Nixon was already smirking at her again.

"Right, right." he chuckled, completely ignoring the heated glare she shot him. Odessa felt her blood boil. She always knew Americans were arrogant and bothersome, but this one was especially bad.

"Is there a point to this conversation, or are you just here to annoy me?" the Russian woman spat, her eyebrows knitting together into an irritated frown. But still, Nixon's smile did not dim.

"Oh, there is a point, but it's not every day you get to piss off a Russian assassin." he chuckled, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Certainly not one with your reputation, anyway." Odessa's eyebrows flew up into her hairline, taken aback at Nixon's straightforwardness. Some would call it bravery, but she thought he was just plain stupid.

"Seen as you are aware of my... reputation, don't you think it would be a good idea to get to the point?" she spoke coolly, her lips quirking up a little at the corners in a challenging smirk. Nixon's bright grin faded slightly, and he cleared his throat.

"Right. Yes." the Lieutenant nodded, then turned and began to walk away. Odessa followed after him a little cautiously.

"When we dropped this morning, Easy Company's commander was Lieutenant Meehan." Nixon began to explain as they walked side by side, "But Meehan hadn't made it to the rendezvous point yet. The rumour is his plane was hit somewhere on the way over." Odessa frowned a little. It didn't surprise her, really. She had watched the sky burn with pieces of American C-47s.

"So who is in charge now?"

"First Lieutenant Winters is taking charge of Easy Company. Which is what I needed to talk to you about. He's leading an attack on a German battery in Brécourt." Nixon explained briefly, and Odessa's eyebrows furrowed.

"And why does he need me for that? I'm an assassin, not a soldier."

"I know, but you're part of Easy Company now. Sink wants you on the front lines."

"To kill as many Germans as possible?"

"Well, it is kind of your speciality." Nixon smirked, and Odessa felt her lips twitch upwards ever so slightly.

"I suppose it is." she commented drily. As soon as the words left her lips, the Lieutenant led her into a barn, which looked as though it had seen better days. Inside were a group of maybe a dozen Americans, all gathered round one man with red hair and a gold bar pinned to the front of his uniform. Odessa inferred that he was Lieutenant Winters.

"Hey, Dick!" Nixon called out to the man, a bright smile spreading across his lips. "I found the girl." Winters looked up from the rifle in his hands to glance between his friend and Odessa. He tried to hide his surprise at her appearance, but not very well. She didn't blame him really. No doubt she was still covered in that German's blood.

"Good." Winters shifted a little uncomfortably as their eyes met, but he held her gaze with an authority Odessa hadn't been expecting. "You got a weapon, Agent?" At his question, the woman slipped her pistol out of the thigh holster at her side and waved it in front of him. She had more weapons, but he didn't need to see those. It probably wasn't permitted for soldiers to carry the number of sidearms she did.

Odessa was just about to put her pistol away again, when a voice with the strongest accent she had ever heard cut through the tense silence.

"Wait a second. It's a broad?"

Her head snapped to the side to fix whoever the owner of the voice was with a heated glare. Her blue eyes met with brown ones. The person who had spoken was a man who looked to be a few inches taller than her. His expression was hard and judging, eyes studying every part of her to the detail. He didn't like her very much, she could tell.

"Assuming a 'broad' is a woman, then yes. Yes I am." Odessa stated with only a slight arch of her brow. All eyes were on her now, watching her with open mouths. Except one. The woman was almost relieved to spot a familiar face amongst the sea of unfamiliar ones. Although Joseph Liebgott didn't exactly look pleased to see her. His glare was so harsh it almost made her stumble back.

"Why the hell is a broad coming with us?" the first man - whose words Odessa could barely even understand - turned to Winters with a furious scowl. The young woman rolled her eyes.

"She's a specialist, Guarnere. Her help will be invaluable." Lieutenant Winters told the man - Guarnere, his name was - calmly. Odessa vaguely heard Nixon let out a scoff, presumably at the word 'specialist'. That wasn't exactly the word she would use either.

"How's it gonna help if she gets us killed, huh?" Guarnere hissed, briefly glancing around at his fellow soldiers for some kind of support. Each one of them were glaring at her. "Cos I ain't babysittin' for some little girl."

"I don't need babysitting." Odessa spat in reply, her forehead creasing into a scowl. If there was one thing she absolutely _hated_ , it was being made to seem helpless. She could kill every single man in this room if she wanted to, and _oh_ , how Odessa wanted to show them that.

"Right, right. Ya don't need babysittin'." Guarnere scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "What exactly do ya do then? You a nurse? Cos you don't look like much of a fighter." As the American's tone became harsher, so did Odessa's scowl.

"I'm an assassin." she growled, fists clenching by her sides to the point of drawing blood. Crescent moons in her palms. "And I'm only here on Premier Stalin's orders, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't get in my way."

If it hadn't been tense before, it certainly was now. Every man in the room seemed to freeze up, including Guarnere. That was the effect the simple word 'Stalin' always seemed to have on a room. Everyone was afraid of him - even his allies. Odessa shot the Americans a cold, ruthless smirk.

"Right." Winters was the first to come to his senses, clearing his throat very uncomfortably. The rest of the men turned to face him again, although out of the corner of their eyes, they still watched the small Russian girl.

"So, 88s we've been hearing have been spotted in a field down the roads away." Winters began to explain, hoping to draw the men's attention away from Odessa. It worked, for the moment. "Major Strayer wants us to take 'em out."

The young woman shuffled a little closer towards Winters, who had taken out a pencil and was drawing a rough view of what they would be heading in to. Her shoulder knocked into a man shockingly blonde hair, but she ignored him.

"There are two guns that we know of, firing on Utah beach." Winters continued, sketching two crosses to represent the German guns, and two lines to match, indicating 'Utah beach'. In all honesty, Odessa had no clue what 'Utah beach' was.

"Plan on a third and a fourth, here and here." Winters drew two more crosses along the bottom line, "The Germans are in the trenches with access to the entire battery, with a machine gun covering the rear." Odessa's eyes narrowed as Winters continued to sketch out the Nazi defences. From the looks of it, there would be quite a few more Germans than they had soldiers. It would take a completely fool proof plan to win the battle without any casualties.

"How many Krauts they think we're facing?" Odessa looked up at Guarnere's question, watching as Winters glanced around at the men. His mouth was set into a grim line.

"No idea."

"No idea?"

Odessa rolled her eyes. Only the Americans would ever go into battle with almost no idea of what they were facing. She swore on every deity in the sky they were going to get her killed.

"We'll take some TNT along with us, despite the guns. Lipton, your responsibility." Winters turned to the man on his left, who replied with a quick, _'yes sir'_. Odessa glanced at the soldier - who the Lieutenant had addressed as Lipton - and gave him the once over. From the chevrons on his arm, she figured he was some sort of Sergeant.

"Liebgott, you'll take the first machine gun." Winters then turned to the man she already knew, and Liebgott nodded in reply. Her eyes flitted between the men as each of them were assigned jobs. She couldn't make out exactly who Plesha, Petty and Hendrix were, but she didn't suppose she needed to know either. Her job was different to theirs. Compton - the blonde man by her side - two soldiers named Toye and Malarkey, and lastly Guarnere were to lead the main assault. Odessa guessed she would go along with them too, at least until Winters sent her off to locate the information. She didn't worry too much about learning their names. Half of them would probably be dead by the end of this, anyway.

As Winters turned to her, Odessa tried to put all thought of death out of her mind. She had a job to do, and by God she was going to do it well. Just like an NKVD mission. Beria may not have been around, but Odessa wasn't naïve enough to believe he wasn't watching her like a hawk.

"Tereshkova, you stick with me. We'll be leading the main assault. I'm giving you a bit of free rein here, knowing what you can do, but I still expect you to follow orders. Got it?" Winters arched an eyebrow expectantly, and Odessa nodded. She new how to follow orders. Just think of it as an NKVD mission. Do what you're told, or die.

"Alright, let's pack it up boys."

The woman blinked rapidly, realising she had zoned out. The men had their jobs, and the plan was set. All they had to do now was put it into motion. Odessa followed Winters and the rest of Easy Company out into the streets of Sainte-Marie-du-Mont, hanging back a little so she didn't have to endure their glares any longer. Anger would only distract her from the mission.

"Okay, just weapons and ammo, drop everything else!" Winters called above the noise of clattering weapons and the clinking of ammo as the men slung them over their shoulders. Odessa hung back as the Americans prepared themselves for the battle ahead. She already had all her weapons on her. But ammo was a whole other story. She didn't even have to check to know she was running short. Odessa could only pray it was enough to get through the battle. And if it wasn't, she always had her combat knives.

"Lieutenant, sir?" Odessa scowled as she was barged aside by a tall American soldier. He barely even looked her way, so determined to reach Winters. The young woman muttered a string of Russian curse words - ones her mother _definitely_ wouldn't have approved of - under her breath.

"I was wondering, sir - Do you need an extra hand?" the rude American asked, still not even noticing her. Even when she directed one of her fearsome glares to the side of his face. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Odessa saw one of the other men turn around with a distinctly disdainful look on his face. She wracked her brain to try and think of his name... Malarkey? Or was it Toye?

"Ain't you Sink's Jeep driver?" he asked the rude American, and Odessa let out an involuntary snort. That caught his attention, finally. The man who had barged her turned slowly, his eyes widening to the size of saucers when he caught sight of her. 

"A girl? Jesus Christ, there's a girl here!" he cried, pointing an accusing finger at her chest. Odessa glanced down at it, highly unimpressed. She was sick of these Americans already, and it hadn't even been three hours.

" _Bloody hell_ , yes, I am a girl!" Odessa cried in exasperation, "I'm sure you've seen one of those before. Now will you get out of my way?" she asked him rhetorically, but the rude American simply continued to stare at her, mouth agape. Odessa let out a noise of frustration, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, before she barged into his shoulder. The force of it almost sent him tumbling to the floor, and Odessa was disappointed it didn't. She would have liked to see him on his ass, face red with humiliation. _Bloody Americans_.

Ever the mediator, Lieutenant Winters hastily diverted attention away from her, reluctantly agreeing to let the rude American - Lorraine, she discovered his name was - tag along. Odessa let out a loud scoff as the soldier began to prepare for the battle. _A Jeep driver_. He probably didn't even have any proper training. One thing she would never understand about Americans was how they let such incompetence into their ranks. They didn't even deserve the title of a soldier. Stalin had been right about one thing, if nothing else. Americans were inferior.

But now she had to rely on them.

"Hey, Liebgott! Have you got any spare ammo I could borrow?" Odessa turned to the soldier next to her, and he glanced up with a cold expression. The young woman frowned a little. She would have expected him to be a little more grateful, seen as she did save his life.

"Here." But he wasn't grateful. Liebgott flung his ammunition pouch into her arms without a second glance, leaving Odessa's blood boiling in her veins. Suppressing a scowl, the woman loaded the ammo into her pistol, listening for the satisfying 'click' sound as the cartridge slotted into her magazine. Sucking in a sharp breath, Odessa could only pray it would be enough. Guns were her best friend in battle.

Before long, cries of _'Let's move!'_ , and _'We're headin' out, boys!'_ were heard, and Easy Company began their march towards Brécourt. There was a nervous kind of energy amongst the men. It fizzed and crackled so loudly Odessa winced at the sound. Each soldier was wound up like a spring. The anticipation of battle had no doubt been building up over their years of training, and now they were finally going to get the combat they came for. _Wound up like springs_. 

Before too long, the tension would need to release.  
  
  
  
  
  


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The artillery fire was deafening. Like overhead thunder on a muggy, summer night. War was loud, and it gave Odessa a headache. But she was part of war now, and war was part of her. No matter how much she wanted to run, she had to see it through. Right till the very end.

Odessa was crouched in a distinctly uncomfortable position next to Lieutenant Winters. She and Easy Company were waiting - hiding in the bushes of Brécourt Manor, simply observing the Germans at work. She had long since stopped listening to Winters explain the battle plan to his men. Her eyes were instead trained on the barely visible German guns not even thirty metres away from where they were hidden in the thick foliage. Odessa's finger twitched on the trigger of her drawn Tokarev pistol. She was always eager to begin a battle. Not because she enjoyed it, but because the quicker they started, the quicker they finished. But Odessa would have been lying if she said there wasn't a certain pleasure that came from taking revenge on the people who had dragged her into this mess. If she disliked the Americans, she _despised_ the Germans.

Odessa blinked as the face of Lieutenant Winters suddenly materialised in front of her. She had gotten lost in her thoughts again. Quite a bad habit. While she couldn't voice every little thing that went through her head anymore, the loud crashing of ideas and opinions only seemed to get louder with time. Odessa's mind was buzzing. Ready to burst.

But now it was time to focus.

"You'll be the spearhead of our main assault." Winters was explaining, and the young woman blinked to concentrate on his words. He was speaking rapidly, his already pretty strong American accent becoming thicker with every word. Odessa got the feeling this was going to be a problem later down the line.

"That means you shoot anything that walks. But if things get a little... intense, I have orders to pull you out." Winters' eyes studied Odessa's face carefully, searching for an indication of... well, _anything_. But her expression was completely blank, save for the slight arch of her eyebrow.

"You're a valuable asset, Tereshkova." Winters concluded a little more confidently, hoping his message had got across. Odessa understood perfectly, of course. Even the American higher-ups were more willing to sacrifice their own men than lose her, and her assets, as Winters had called it. Odessa didn't know whether to feel proud or guilty. Or just nothing.

A nod was the only indication of acceptance to the possibility. Neither she nor Winters particularly liked the idea, but it came from powers much higher than them. If things went to shit, Odessa would be saved first. The two shared a grim look before Winters turned away to give the signal to his men. A brief silence.

 _Rat-a-tat-a-tat_.

Odessa resisted the urge to flinch as Liebgott and Petty began firing their machine gun. The cries of already fallen German soldiers were almost as loud. They were caught off guard, evidently. A perfectly formulated plan. Winters just had to see it through, and Odessa could help. She snatched both pistols from her thigh holsters and turned them on the panicked Germans.

_One bullet. Dead German. Repeat. Reload._

Odessa worked hard to keep her mind blank as red flickered before her eyes. She tried to keep the pattern of firing, killing, and reloading, even when the Germans retaliated. Secretly, she wondered why she hadn't been hit yet. Odessa was practically out in the open. All it would take was a semi-decent shot, and she would be yet another casualty of war.

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

Three grenades, each more deafening than the last. Odessa knew that was her signal. Compton and his men had finally launched their attack on the first German gun, and now the barrage had stopped. The way was clear, and Lieutenant Winters wasn't about to miss his opportunity.

"Let's go! Let's go! Follow me!" he cried, emerging from the cover of the trees and out into the open field. Odessa didn't hesitate to follow after him, keeping her pistols aimed and ready, just in case. Her keen eyes picked out any German stragglers, and a bullet followed soon after. They were trying to run while they still could, but no enemy soldier got far. As soon as Odessa and the Americans were inside the relative cover of the Germans' own trench, they started to drop like flies.

The sound of gunshots was familiar to Odessa. It was ingrained in her mind; impossible to remove, and even harder to drown out. Listening to the sonic _'boom'_ of a bullet being released was like a young child listening to the sounds of everyday life. It was part of Odessa now, to the point where the slamming of a door, or a car backfiring sent her into an intense state of paranoia. It she had it her way, she would never have to hear a gunshot again. But with war raging all around her, Odessa didn't have much of a choice.

There were too many Germans to count, whether they were shooting at their heads, or trying to flee with their lives, Odessa knew there were too many. Guarnere and Toye fought side by side, firing off round after round after round, but the Germans just kept coming. Like the tide rushing onto the beach, they retreated beyond sight, giving them a moment of hope, before suddenly a new wave surged forward to battle against them in a never-ending struggle to gain the upper hand. Odessa knew even her efforts may not be enough to swing the balance, but she wasn't about to give up.

The Jeep driver - Lorraine - was struggling to shoot down his German. Bullet after bullet landed just shy of the mark. Guarnere could see it too, and Odessa could tell he was mere seconds away from stepping in. She beat him to it. Pushing off the trench wall, the small woman drew her pistol to line up with the running German's back. One bullet. Dead. Red on the floor.

Guarnere was frozen at her side, his eyes darting between her and the fallen German. It had taken her one shot to bring him down, one shot, which she took with a blank expression, void of any and all emotion. As soon as Odessa turned to face him, he looked away - not before shooting her a rather nasty sideways glance - but Odessa had seen the way he froze. Guarnere's eyes betrayed him. _Fear._ Fear could not be hidden from someone like her. Even as he stalked away to mutter some sort on insult into the Jeep driver's ear, she could feel it radiating from him. Fear was her greatest weapon.

Bullets were her second greatest, and they were running short. Odessa knew that with the rate she was shooting down German after German, her ammunition would not last long. Glancing quickly at the men around her, she decided that they would be able to handle the advance by themselves. They were good soldiers. Odessa would be better off further down the trench, where the Nazis were desperately trying to keep hold of what territory they had left. She could do more damage there.

Odessa only made half a move towards where she knew the enemy were positioned before stopping in her tracks. _Remember_. She was part of Easy Company now, whether she liked it or not, and that meant following orders like a soldier. That was what Winters expected of her.

She would have gone to consult him about leading her own solo attack on the Germans further down the trench, but shouts of _'Grenade!'_ caused the words to die in her throat. Odessa's eyes widened as she spotted just where the grenade had landed. Right next to a wounded man being tended to by the familiar soldier whose name had slipped her mind. She wasn't sure who it was, but they were about to be blown to kingdom come. Odessa ducked her head down as the grenade detonated, sending a shower of dirt falling down on hers and Guarnere's heads. Her ears rung with the sheer force of it. War was loud.

"One lucky bastard, Joe!" Odessa's head snapped up with enough speed to give her whiplash, and her eyes landed on the soldier, whose name was apparently 'Joe'. He was - inexplicably - not blown up. Each of his limbs were perfectly intact, and all the grenade seemed to have done was give him a shock. Odessa was shocked herself. 'Joe' was indeed, a lucky bastard.

But now was not the time to marvel at his good fortune. She was stuck in a German trench with hardly any ammo and a wounded soldier at her feet, crying out in agony. Odessa took one look at the gunshot wound in his behind, and decided she was much better off _just staying out of it_. She wasn't about to go digging around in some guy's ass for a bullet, no matter how much pain it was causing him. Luckily, she didn't have to. Like a gift from above, Lieutenant Compton soon came stumbling through the trench, ready to inspect the injured American's wound.

"Where ya hit, Pop?" he asked, kneeling down by the soldier's side and reloading his weapon at the same time. Odessa watched their interaction out of the corner of her eye, but focussed mainly on the battle. Any clear shot at a German, she took her chance without hesitation. The young woman kept a mental note of her kill count, meaning to jot them down in her red notebook later on. They would join her fallen enemies in rows upon rows of stark black lines. No more than pencil marks on thin paper.

Glancing quickly over her shoulder, the young woman watched as Compton and the newly arrived Winters hauled the wounded soldier over the side of the trench. They were shouting to one another above the noise of artillery fire, but Odessa couldn't make out their words anymore. English was a difficult language to understand, even without bullets being shot at her from all directions. There was only one word amongst the other hundred unintelligible ones that made sense.

"Grenade!"

Odessa knew there was no time to evacuate the trench. At least there wasn't for her. She had heard the warning too late. The men were already scrambling away in a desperate attempt to preserve their lives. Odessa's eyes widened. The grenade was only two feet away from where she was standing. And the familiar soldier - Joe - was right on top of it. He may have gotten lucky before, but she highly doubted his chances this time.

Odessa wasn't quite sure what came over her, but the next thing she knew, her body collided with Joe's with a bruising force. It knocked him away from the grenade, not even a split second before it detonated. Odessa felt the burning heat on her legs, and a feeling like being punched square in the middle of her back. She and Joe both fell to the ground, her body shielding his from the blast. Dirt and mud rained down on their heads, but they were okay. She was okay.

"Toye! Tereshkova!"

Odessa rolled quickly off Joe's - or Toye, she heard Winters call him - torso and landed with a thud onto the hard ground. The contact dislodged something in her chest, and she shot up with a hacking cough. Maybe the grenade blast had done a little more damage than she first thought.

"Jesus Christ. Fuckin' twice." Odessa faintly heard Toye mutter under his breath, but she was too busy forcing the contents over her stomach back down up to pay him any mind. There was stabbing pain in her chest every time she coughed, like someone was ramming a jagged piece of glass into her lungs repeatedly. She couldn't _breathe_.

"C'mon, Tereshkova. You're alright." Lieutenant Winters' voice rang in her ears, and Odessa's eyes flew open. Toye, Compton and the aforementioned were kneeled in front of her, their concerned gazes travelling every inch of her body. She didn't like it. The last thing she needed was to appear vulnerable in front of them. They already doubted her, clearly, from the looks of suspicion Odessa could feel constantly on her back. She had to be strong, even when she was weak. _Stay strong, Odessa_.

Winters was first to lend her a hand, and she gladly took it. Odessa sucked in a sharp breath, ridding the last of the stabbing pain before they went back into battle. She made a mental note to see a medic one it was all over; providing she actually survived. Odessa wasn't certain she would anymore. The odds were still heavily stacked against them, and the Nazis' tower was only growing taller.

Then they were running. Sprinting as fast as they could while ducking away from bullets at the same time. Odessa tried to match her stride with Toye's, just to serve as a distraction from the aching. It wasn't working very well. Pain was stubborn. It didn't leave until it had done its absolute worst.

Odessa was grateful as Toye pulled her into the small dugout overlooking the battle field. She had been too disoriented to notice Winters disappear inside. A younger Odessa had always found it curious how pain seemed to cloud the judgement of even the most experienced fighters. It consumed everything; mind, body and even soul. Unless you knew how to block it out. Unless you knew how to not let it control you.

"...Tereshkova? You alright?"

Her eyes snapped open. Toye's face hovered in front of her, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked at her like she was mad. Maybe she was. Odessa wasn't sure what the difference between sanity and insanity was anymore.

"Yes. I'm alright." she muttered in reply, blinking rapidly to rid the red tinge from the corner of her vision. She was losing focus, letting the pain consume her.

 _Don't let it. You were taught better than that_.

"Toye! Tereshkova! Let's get a move on!" Winters called out to them as he sprinted towards the trench once again, leaving the Russian woman a little bewildered. But Toye grabbed hold of her upper arm, and pulled her out of the dugout. The noise difference was startling. Even the cover of a few pieces of thinly spread wooden planks helped to block out artillery fire. Outside was a different story altogether. War was too loud.

Crouching beside Toye, Odessa watched Compton pull the pin out of his grenade, following Winters' order. With no time to catch her breath, they were running again, this time straight towards the second German gun. The Americans opened fire, and enemy soldiers dropped to the floor instantaneously. Blood painted the floor, the beams, even the gun. It reminded her of that cold, dark room with crimson red walls. His head in her lap. Her tears on his cheeks.

Odessa blinked.

Then the image was gone.

"Shut the fuck up!" Toye's voice cut harshly through the almost silence. Odessa glanced towards where he and Winters were standing. Their guns were pointed at a German soldier with his hands in the air, crying and begging for his life to be spared. Odessa would have felt for him, if he weren't a Nazi. But he was, and she felt nothing for Nazis.

A dull thud, and the German soldier fell to the floor. Toye drew back, fist clenched by his side. Odessa's eyes picked up on the faint glint on his right hand. Brass knuckles. Her brow arched in surprise, and she had to admit she was quite impressed.

A shuffling from behind caught her attention, and before she had the chance to cry out, one huge fist came swinging at her from seemingly nowhere. Odessa let out a yelp of alarm, only just managing to block the punch before it collided with her nose. Toye and Winters spun around, their eyes widening as they caught sight of her and the German soldier towering above her. Odessa's fist cut upwards towards his chin, but she had greatly underestimated the Nazi's speed. He caught it with ease, and the woman's eyes widened. Her knee hit the floor, buckling under the pressure of the German's arms pushing her down. There was a glint in his eye, and a manic grin on his lips, and Odessa wanted to scream. But screaming would just attract the rest of the Germans' attention. So she settled for a quiet grunt, and a muttered curse.

Toye and Winters sprang both sprang towards her at the same time, the former brandishing his brass knuckles. They didn't get very far, before Odessa finally released all the pressure that had been bubbling up inside her chest. Her spring had reached its breaking point.

The tall Nazi was strong, but she was undoubtedly stronger. Years and years of training in the NKVD hadn't amounted to nothing. The German didn't expect her to push back, and he definitely didn't expect a punch to the jaw that was so hard he ended up seeing stars. He didn't expect a knee to the groin either, but Odessa was full of surprises, and she still had a few in store yet.

The young woman gave him almost no time to recover from her blows. He had barely even staggered to his feet when her boot-clad foot connected with his face. Then he was back on the floor again, clutching his broken jaw. Odessa's roundhouse kick had always been a marvel to her trainers at the NKVD Academy; They never quite understood how someone of her tiny size and stature could knock a fully grown man down with only one blow. But she had done it many times before, and the Nazi on the ground was only the latest of a very long line of victims to fall because of it.

Odessa rolled her eyes as he shrieked in pure agony. There he was, a fully grown man, blubbering like a toddler with a papercut. It _annoyed_ her. Battles were never challenging anymore. They all ended the same way. A pained cry quickly silenced by her bullet. This battle was no different.

Toye and Winters could only stare at her with open mouths, muttering a quiet "What the hell?" simultaneously. But when the bullets started flying again, all thoughts of Odessa and the dead German left their minds. Ducking down low to avoid the oncoming barrage, the Russian woman made her way towards Winters and Toye.

"Tereshkova!" the Lieutenant cried over the noise, his voice barely reaching her ears, "Head towards the first gun and see if Lipton's made it with the TNT! I'll meet you there!" Odessa certainly wasn't used to taking orders, but she quickly found herself willing to do whatever Winters told her. There was no denying he was an exceptional leader. Even if he was American.

Picking herself up from the floor, with Compton's shouts of covering fire in her ears, Odessa sprinted out into the main trench once again. She didn't even bother to duck, reckless as she was. Daria had always said she had a death wish. Maybe that wasn't too far from the truth.

It didn't take long to reach the first gun. Odessa met no German resistance along the way, and she was fast; Fast enough to evade the bullets completely. All the Nazis would have seen was a streak of gold dancing along the ridgeline, like a firefly ambling through the night. How were they to have known what that little firefly really was? Suffice to say, Odessa made it to the first gun completely unharmed, and with a dangerous amount of adrenaline coursing through her veins. The thrill of the battle always felt new, even if she had fought a hundred of them.

When Odessa threw herself to the ground beside Guarnere, he made it perfectly clear he was _not_ happy to see her. She bit back the urge to laugh as he all but growled;

"I thought you might'a been dead by now."

Odessa ignored his comment, not wanting to rise to his childish behaviour. Though it was a challenge to bite her tongue. She knew men like Guarnere, the ones who existed to make her life hell. Wherever she went, there always seemed to be one. Odessa wished for nothing more than to put them in their place, but she was smarter than to go around picking fights. Rule one of the NKVD: Keep your head down.

Odessa only glanced Guarnere's way once more before she crawled past him, closer to the lip of grass that was their only cover against the German fire. Liebgott and Petty had arrived with their machine gun only moments before, the former yelling something about suppressing fire rather loudly. Odessa ignored him and pulled out her pistol. She only had a few cartridges left, so she had to make them count.

Then a figure streaked past her.

There was an American soldier running through the open field, straight towards the Germans. _Towards them_. His friends desperately tried to call him back, but he ignored them, throwing himself down on the ground next to a dead body. Odessa vaguely remembered him from Winters' briefing. What was his name again? Malarkey, wasn't it? She supposed it didn't really matter. He was going to get himself killed either way.

But for reasons unknown to Odessa, no more bullets rained down on Malarkey.

"Now you stop firing?! Beautiful!" Liebgott yelled, sarcasm lacing his voice. The Russian woman glanced at him momentarily, her face a picture of complete disbelief.

"What is he doing?" she cried, but Liebgott could only shake his head.

"Fuck if I know!"

Odessa looked back towards the figure of Malarkey, who was now laying down on the floor next to a dead German soldier. Something was clutched in his hands, something which vaguely resembled a gun. That must have been what he was looking for. Odessa knew the Americans liked to collect souvenirs, but she never expected one would be so dumb as to run out _in the middle of a battle_ to get one.

"Christ, they must think he's a medic or sumthin'!" one of the other soldiers, Petty, exclaimed as he pushed his helmet further back onto his head to get a better look. The Germans _still_ weren't firing.

"He's gonna need a goddamn medic!" Guarnere countered angrily, hands clutching his gun with a white-knuckled grip. Odessa watched in grim fascination as Malarkey looked around desperately, searching for _anything_ that might save him. Then, he did the stupidest - yet the most reasonable - thing anyone could have done in that situation.

He ran.

At least he didn't run in a straight line, Odessa noted. Malarkey had at least one functioning brain cell to use. German bullets pinged off the ground, ricocheting off his boots, but none of them hit their intended target, and Malarkey threw himself back into their trench. Of course, Guarnere couldn't resist making a smart-ass comment, but Odessa was much too far away to hear it over the gunshots.

All too soon, Malarkey's escapade was forgotten; drowned out by bullets flying over their heads. The Germans seemed to be firing with more vigour than before, and it was all directed towards them. Odessa cursed under her breath. There was still the ongoing problem of ammo. Bullets were her most trusty weapon in war, and she knew how to manipulate them perfectly. Even though she was still skilled with her hands and a knife, Odessa needed her pistols to be complete. And that was becoming next to impossible.

"Jesus, you got a whole Kraut platoon up there!"

Great. That was all she needed. Glancing over her shoulder, she let her guard down for a moment. Two new soldiers had arrived, one who she recognised, and the other who she had never seen before. The unfamiliar one - who's insignia she believed made him a Captain - was having a shouted conversation with Lieutenant Winters. She had not seen him arrive.

"Heya cowboy!" Odessa then turned to look at Guarnere, who was waving mockingly at the familiar soldier, who at a second glance looked to be no older than herself. He was a kid.

"Shut your fucking guinea trap, Gonorrhoea!"

But he was a kid with a mouth on him, that was for sure. Odessa couldn't help but let out a sharp bark of laughter, loud enough to startle both Liebgott and the young soldier. The latter grinned smugly, seemingly very pleased that he had been the one to crack her stony façade; If only a little. Odessa paused for a moment. The young soldier's boyish grin reminded her of home.

Rule two of the NKVD: _Never_ let your guard down.

Odessa heard the whizz of a bullet before it hit her; or skimmed at least. A quiet _'oof'_ passed her lips as she was pushed into Liebgott's side, her now bleeding shoulder colliding with his. She heard him mutter something along the lines of, _'shit, watch it I'm shootin' here'_ but the words seemed to die in his throat as he turned to face her completely. While the bullet hadn't hit Odessa with its full force, it had hit her hard enough to leave an angry red gash in her shoulder. The woman glanced down at it, eyebrow arching in slight surprise. It looked worse than it actually was. She could barely even feel the pain. Odessa was more annoyed that it had ripped her only catsuit.

"Tereshkova, you've been shot! What the hell is wrong with you!" Liebgott yelled, his hand reaching out towards the gash on her shoulder. Odessa slapped it away.

"Calm down, I'm fine. It's just a graze." she scowled, shuffling away from him so he wouldn't be able to reach her. She didn't need to be looked after.

"Shit - Just a graze? You're fucking bleeding!"

"Well, yes, that's what tends to happen!" Odessa yelled over the noise, which seemed to have gotten even louder. Her nose scrunched up angrily as she locked eyes with Liebgott. He should have been shooting, but instead he was gazing at her with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. He had never met _anyone_ quite like Odessa.

"Fire in the hole!" Winters' voice finally broke their intense eye contact, as they both scrambled to press their hands over their ears. Then came a loud, _'BANG'_ and heat from the explosion warmed their backs almost pleasantly. Odessa twisted her neck to look round, and saw that the first gun was destroyed; it's barrel completely blown apart. She let out a brief sigh of relief. They were one step closer to ending this battle.

"Tereshkova!" Odessa almost jumped at the sound of her name being called. Craning her neck to find the owner of the voice, she spotted Lieutenant Winters crawling towards her.

"Second gun, now!" he yelled, and Odessa didn't hesitate to comply. Feeling Liebgott's gaze on her back, she stumbled to her feet to follow Winters and his squad back out into the main trench. This time, she had no choice but to duck, as the bullets came flying at them relentlessly, barely even a break between reloading. Every now and again, a German would pop his head above his trench wall, and Odessa would put her skills to good use by putting a bullet right between his eyes. Anything to stop the barrage.

Less than ten metres from the second gun, the woman spotted another German helmet out of the corner of her eye, just peeking above the lip of grass opposite them. She couldn't make out his face in the chaos and the dirt showering down on them, but Odessa saw the German freeze. Her gun was raised and aimed for his forehead in an instant, her finger squeezing the trigger tightly.

Nothing happened.

A quiet _'click'_ emitted from her pistol, but not the _'bang'_ she had been expecting. She was out of ammo. Odessa looked back up towards where the German's head had been, but he was gone. He had gotten lucky. Very lucky.

And now she had no more bullets.

Perfect.

Clenching her hands into tight fists, Odessa crouched down beside Winters as they finally reached the second gun. Compton and Malarkey were there already, doing there best to hold off the German attack, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Odessa wasn't the only one with too little bullets for Germans.

"Running a little low on ammo, sir!" Compton hollered in an attempt to be heard above the gunfire. For the first time, she could see worry etched across his face, and it did nothing to ease Odessa's growing concerns.

"What about you, Malarkey?"

"Okay!"

At least he still had something left to keep him going. Although Odessa knew that was only because he did nothing but lean his head against the trench wall and thank God for not ending his life. She was still amazed he hadn't been killed.

"Tereshkova, what about you?!"

It took a moment for Odessa to realise Winters was speaking to her, his words being almost completely drowned out in the chaos. It didn't help that his pronunciation of her name was much less than perfect.

"I'm all out, sir!" the young woman yelled over the tumult, and Winters' eyebrows scrunched together in frustration. He knew as well as she did that Odessa was their greatest asset, but she could only do so much without her pistols. Ammunition was in short supply for everyone, and without it, they wouldn't last much longer.

"Think you got enough to take the third gun?!" Winters turned to Compton and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, his voice breaking a little from the effort of trying to be heard.

"We'll soon find out, Dick."

Well, that wasn't very comforting.

Odessa watched with her heart in her mouth as Compton and Malarkey sprinted away again, Toye doing his best to cover them from the raging German fire. She just couldn't shake the feeling of dread gnawing away at her insides. In the NKVD, relying on your instincts _just wasn't done_. It was follow orders, or die. But Odessa knew her instincts were reliable, and they told her that even with Winters' leadership, Easy Company wouldn't make it out of this battle without a cost.

"Okay, Hall! Keep your head down!" the Lieutenant commanded, and it took Odessa a moment to realise he wasn't talking to her. She hadn't even noticed the mouthy kid was with them until she turned her head and realised he was crouched right next to her.

"Tereshkova, go with him!"

Odessa didn't have time to try and decipher how she felt about someone so young partaking in a battle such as this, as the kid - Hall - was already crawling away from her. Scrambling hastily to her feet, the woman winced a little as she heard the _'snap'_ of one of her long nails breaking when it came into contact with the hard dirt floor. Since leaving Sainte-Marie-du-Mont, she hadn't even had time to shave her armpits, let alone cut her nails. Wincing once more, Odessa rose to stand, hunched over just enough for the German bullets to fly over her head.

"Hall!" she and the young soldier whirled around to face Winters again, "Leave your TNT!" Complying immediately, Hall tossed his TNT into the Lieutenant's hands, then with a brief nod in Odessa's direction, the two set off running down the narrow German trench. The woman stayed behind him, keeping a sharp eye out for any Nazis hiding in the shadows, ready to spring a surprise attack on them. The Red Army soldiers always told her she was paranoid, but Odessa knew it was better to be safe than sorry.

Her anxiety only heightened when they passed through a pitch dark dugout, where she knew it would be far too easy for a German soldier to jump out and shoot them both dead. The dark always made her nervous. You never knew what was lurking in the shadows. It was the not knowing that scared her. Not knowing if she would ever see light again.

The blinding light.

Odessa didn't see it coming, didn't get time to move, didn't get time to warn Hall. Her feet disappeared from under her. Completely gone. Flying through the air like a rag doll. When her head hit the ground, she didn't feel anything. Except the ringing in her ears.

Darkness.

The heat and light disappeared, plunging Odessa's world into darkness. She felt as if she were floating; It was an odd feeling, and strangely peaceful. Just floating in the silence, not a care in the world. She imagined this was what death was like.

Was she dead?

Odessa didn't think she would mind all that much if she was. Death seemed like a much quieter alternative to life. There wasn't anyone around to annoy her, for a start. Gosh, people were so annoying. That was one thing she wouldn't miss. And the sounds of war. It felt like her ears were constantly filled with it, and even when there was quiet, artillery fire would still play in her head, over and over and over and over...

Odessa hoped she was dead. She didn't know why. Ever since the NKVD, she had never really believed in an afterlife, or a place where everything was _better_. Mama had called it _Shamayim_. Heaven. Whispers of a perfect place, where rainbows and butterflies were the norm, not burnt trees and bomb craters. And blood. Odessa would have been content with darkness. At least there was no blood in the abyss.

Maybe death wasn't so bad.

The darkness was fading. The velvety, floating feeling too. _No, no, no_. She didn't want it to go, not yet. She didn't want to go back to war. She didn't want to see any more blood. Odessa didn't want to go back.

But the darkness was fading, and a voice was calling her.

_"Tereshkova!"_

Odessa knew it was Winters before she even opened her eyes. She recognized his accent. Every Americans' was different, although oddly similar. He was hovering somewhere above her, desperately trying to shake her awake.

Just five more minutes...

_"Tereshkova, wake up!"_

He wasn't giving up, she had to give him that. His shakes became harder, no doubt leaving bruises on her shoulders. Odessa groaned softly. She would never get back to sleep with him there.

"Alright, alright, I'm getting up."

Winters let out a sigh of relief, his breath tickling her face. She would have giggled, if she weren't annoyed at him for waking her up. All Odessa wanted to do was sleep. Was that so much to ask? A little peace and quiet for once?

However, as soon as her eyes opened and her vision returned, so did the noise. Never ending artillery fire and guns firing in all directions. She would have thought it were hell, had it not been for the cold chill in the air. Then again, Odessa didn't really believe in hell either.

"What the hell happened?!"

Winters didn't even wait for her to sit up before his interrogation began. The young woman scowled, and took a moment to take in her surroundings. She was lying a good ten feet from the last place she remembered standing. _Huh_. The blast must have knocked her back quite far. Other than that, everything was the same. That dead German, who had been shot down just as she passed by him on her way into the dark dugout, was still there. The blood too. It was seeping out of his head.

Odessa knew there had been some sort of explosion. She had felt its power. Hell, it had almost killed her. She didn't know where it had come from. A land mine? A grenade, perhaps? Well, whatever it was, neither she nor Hall had seen it coming.

Wait.

Hall.

What had happened to him? She hadn't had the chance to warn him. He had run ahead of her. Closer to the explosion. Oh no. _Oh no, no, no._

It was as if Winters could read her mind, and he was on his feet in less than a second. Odessa scrambled to follow him, ignoring the astonishingly intense pain in her... well _everywhere_. There pain was everywhere. Her legs, arms, chest, head, fingers, toes... absolutely everywhere. And it was horrible. But Odessa gritted her teeth and limped after Winters. Then when he stopped, she stopped.

Her heart clenched painfully.

It was hard to make out over the Lieutenant's shoulder, but she could see blood. A lot of it. That told her everything she needed to know. Odessa's hands fisted by her sides. Tightly. Crescent moons in her palms. Hall was a _kid_. A damn kid who might have even been younger than _her_. His face was still no more than a boy's; soft, and round and utterly innocent. Now it was marred with blood and the stench of death.

Odessa wanted to comfort Winters. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel the pain radiating from him. How was she supposed to comfort someone? It wasn't an easy thing to do, especially when she had never really experienced it herself. Except for in that other life, from many years ago. Odessa didn't know what to do, but she had to say _something_.

"Was he a friend of yours?"

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Of course he was. He wouldn't be so upset if he didn't even know the boy, would he?

"I coached him. He was on the 506th Basketball team."

Maybe not so stupid. She had got him to talk, at least, and that was a start. Now Odessa wasn't sure what to say in reply. Luckily, Winters wasn't quite finished yet.

"He was a good man. Good soldier."

Odessa watched with a heavy heart as the Lieutenant closed Hall's glassy eyes. His hand was shaking ever so slightly.

"Is he the first man you've ever lost?"

Winters looked up.

"I've only been in combat for a day, so yeah. Yeah he is."

Odessa could hear the defeat in his voice. It bothered her. Winters was the only thing between Easy Company and their total destruction, and seen as though _she_ was part of Easy Company now, it would be nice if they weren't all killed after only one day.

"It's best not to dwell on it." Odessa told him, with a look which could have been interpreted as sympathetic. Or not, depending on where you were standing.

"You speak from experience?' Winters stood up, his eyes lingering on Hall's body only for a moment. Odessa let out a bitter laugh. There was no warmth in it whatsoever, and Winters couldn't help but wonder what she had seen to make her so cold.

"I am no stranger to loss, Lieutenant. It's been a part of my life since I was a child. So, yes. I speak from experience." the woman's eyes hardened, knowing that pain was beginning to show through the cracks. She wouldn't allow herself to appear vulnerable. Not now.

"Does it get easier?"

Odessa paused, taken aback by Winters' question. She wasn't sure how to answer it. Did it ever get easier? Truthfully, no. Although she told herself it did.

"Eventually." Was all she replied, pushing her innermost thoughts deep down where they wouldn't resurface. She wanted to tell him that watching someone you loved die was something no one could ever recover from. She wanted to tell him that the guilt is overwhelming. She wanted to tell him that it eats away at the insides until all that is left is despair and bitterness.

But Odessa bit her tongue.

Winters looked at her oddly, like he didn't quite believe her, or maybe like he didn't quite believe _she_ believed that. There was something in her eyes - if you looked past the ice - that was too broken to be completely unfeeling. A little girl's eyes. Scared. Alone. In pain.

Winters opened his mouth to say something, but the familiar screeching of a mortar cut him off. Odessa was almost glad. She knew he could see past her façade, if only a little bit. He could see that there was a little more to Agent Tereshkova than meets the eye. She couldn't let him see that.

They glanced at each other for a moment, a silent message passing between them. Then, with a nod, they were running again; sprinting through the trenches, desperately praying that the German bullets would stray just far enough from their heads. Odessa followed Winters' lead, her eyes always glued to his back, not letting him out of sight. Bodies were falling all around her, mostly Nazis', shot down mercilessly by the American soldiers, but Odessa ignored them and the stench of blood. She kept her steps in time with Winters' and did what he did. When he launched himself over the side of the trench wall to avoid the grenade blast heading their way, so did she. Odessa landed almost on top of him, but there was no time to apologise.

She could hear voices. German voices.

Winters shot her a sideways glance, eyes wide and questioning. She motioned for him to be quiet, and edged slowly towards the dugout they had landed next to. The voices weren't very loud, and they were distorted. A radio. Odessa practically tripped over her own feet trying to reach it.

They were inside some sort of communications office. It had been abandoned during the battle, but the Germans on the other end of the radio were still desperately trying to make contact. However, that wasn't what caught her eye. The table was littered with maps, papers, graphs, classified intelligence that Odessa knew the Americans would love to get their hands on. Any one of them could provide exactly what they needed to push the Germans back, further out of France and back to their own country. Odessa felt her heart lift with hope.

Snatching the top map from the pile, Winters glanced over it quickly. His face morphed into something like relief, and Odessa could only assume they had found exactly what the Americans needed. The Lieutenant nodded once in thanks, and then they began their dash towards the third gun. Odessa almost enjoyed their sprints through the trenches. It sent a mad rush of adrenaline to her head, and for once, she began to feel something other than the weight of no emotion on her heart. Things were looking up for Easy Company.

Odessa was surprised to find Malarkey and Compton at the third gun, very much alive and kicking. They were firing off round after round at the Germans across the open field, not letting up for one moment. She had almost expected them both to be dead by now, especially Malarkey. He seemed like the kind of person that was always getting himself caught up in stupid and dangerous situations. But, he was miraculously still alive.

"Lieutenant Winters!" a voice called out, making both Odessa and the Lieutenant whirl around to its owner. The Russian woman's stomach dropped as Speirs darted towards them, a group of maybe four or five others in tow. She was still left feeling a little unnerved by their encounter earlier that day, when he had smiled and Odessa's mind was taken back to the NKVD.

"Hester said you needed ammo!"

She may not have liked Lieutenant Speirs, but he certainly was a godsend. The man had brought along enough to ammo to supply the whole company.

"Malarkey! As much as you can for everyone!" Winters commanded, and the red-head sprung forwards to snatch the bullets almost greedily from over Speirs' shoulder. Odessa was the very first to be given her supply of ammo, muttering quiet thankyous under her breath.

"Let's go Dog Company!"

Odessa finished reloading her magazine just in time to see Speirs and his men hurtling in one long line down the trench, speeding towards the last German gun. They weren't going to make it. American soldiers were already falling to Nazi bullets, and even more were killed when Speirs led them _out_ of the trench. Odessa was at a complete loss for words.

How could he be so _stupid?_

Speirs barely even glanced back at his men as more and more of them fell victim to German fire, completely disregarding their cries of pain when the bullets entered their flesh. He was like a machine; ploughing his way through the enemy without a second thought. Odessa knew that he wanted to look back, to help his men, but the task at hand was more important in the grand scheme of things. He couldn't afford to get distracted.

Speirs was like her.

Odessa even felt a little bit sorry for him as a grenade sent his body tumbling to the ground. She had been rooting for him to make it. Still, life goes on. Just like she had told Winters, it was best not to dwell on it. If they were to do their jobs properly, emotion had to be set aside.

Odessa turned away with a newly blank stare, ready to carry on the fight, but she did a double take as Speirs' sprung up from the floor like he hadn't just been knocked down by a grenade. She almost let out a laugh as the Lieutenant waved to confirm his position, his helmet missing and brown hair sticking up at odd angles from the blast. He was one crazy American.

With the capture of the last gun, the odds finally swung irreversibly in their favour. The Germans knew it too, but they kept shooting relentlessly. Odessa kept her head low and sprinted after Winters and Compton until they reached the rest of Easy Company. Liebgott and Petty were still at their machine gun, holding off the German fire as best they could, and Toye, Guarnere and Malarkey were still providing suppressing fire, but it wouldn't be long before it became too much.

"Go! MGs first! Fall back to your original positions!"

Winters ran up and down the trench, screaming his command into the ears of every Easy Company soldier he could find. The desperation to get back to safety was almost tangible in the air, as Liebgott and Petty hauled their machine gun onto their backs and made a break for the trees in front of Brécourt Manor. Odessa hastily stuffed her pistol back into the thigh holster of her catsuit, and at the same time Toye, Guarnere and Malarkey struggled to stand with their M1s. With bated breath, they waited for Winters to give them the signal, and when it finally came, Odessa led the way back to the assembly area inside Brécourt Manor.

Easy Company stumbled wearily through the main entrance, clothes torn, eyelids heavy with exhaustion and almost completely out of ammo. The battle had been long and hard, but they made it through. As Odessa watched the men collapse onto the cold ground, chests heaving with the amount of air their lungs tried to suck in, her heart felt oddly heavy. Guarnere and Malarkey were laughing about the latter's near death experience like a bunch of Germans hadn't just been shooting at their heads. Toye was still grumbling about being hit by two grenades, although a small smile was on his face. Liebgott even seemed to drop his hot-headed act and laugh along with his fellow soldiers. Odessa couldn't remember the last time she had laughed; properly laughed. That was what five years in combat with no break from the horrors of war did to a person.

Easy Company were smiling now, but when their comrades began to die, and all hope was lost, they would understand what war really was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HISTORICAL NOTES
> 
> just a few historical notes for this chapter!
> 
> private first class john d. hall was - according to hbo - killed in action during the brécourt manor assault. this is actually false. the only man named john d. hall in the 506th was killed on d-day when his plane crashed over normandy. in fact, it was john d. halls that was killed during the brécourt manor attack. there is some conflicting evidence as to whether he was killed by german gunfire - like in band of brothers - or whether it was a landmine. i have decided to go with the latter, because it fits better with how i wanted this chapter to go.
> 
> i also wanted to note that i know next to nothing about guns. i did a little bit of research, but seriously, i have no idea how accurate this chapter has been in that respect. i am aware that some bullets are not compatible with certain guns, and i wasn't sure if the bullets used by american soldiers (i used the m1 carbine rifle as reference) could be used in odessa's tokarev pistols, but apparently they can be. please let me know if i am wrong :)
> 
> technically, the phrase 'sonic boom' hadn't yet been coined in 1944. obviously, a sonic boom is created when an object (most typically an aircraft) breaks the sound barrier. while sonic booms had been around for thousands of years - for example, the cracking of a whip is a sonic boom, and so is a gunshot - it wasn't officially 'discovered' until chuck yeager broke the sound barrier in his aircraft, in 1947, thus 'creating' the first official sonic boom.
> 
> lastly, i wanted to note another casualty of the brécourt manor assault that is not often mentioned. if you have seen band of brothers, you might remember that while lipton and ranney were crawling across that field towards the first gun, lip was talking to another soldier, who asked where battalion headquarters was, and then was shot in the head. that soldier was warrant officer andrew hill, who shouldn't have even been at brécourt. he was in fact searching for the 506th PIR headquarters, when he got caught up in the battle. i always thought that was quite sad, and not many people know about it, so there you go!
> 
> hope you enjoyed reading!
> 
> rose <3


	6. a friend is the hope of the heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odessa is treated by Easy Company's medic, Eugene Roe

**ODESSA WAS IN AGONY.** **NOT THAT SHE WOULD EVER ADMIT IT.**

Her shoulder was burning with a pain that felt both hot and cold at the same time, a pain that felt like she had been punched with an iron fist. The gash was bigger now, angry and crimson red, spilling blood onto the floor in a long trail leading through the muddy fields of Normandy. Odessa tried to grit her teeth and bear it, but every rub of her catsuit against the wound was agony. She was falling further and further behind Easy Company every second, and none of them seemed to notice. Except Winters.

God bless Lieutenant Winters.

"You're gonna need to get that checked out, Tereshkova." he called to her, hanging back a little so she could catch up. His men all stopped and watched as Odessa struggled forwards, expression still as stoic as ever despite her bloody mess of a shoulder.

"It's just a graze." the woman spoke through gritted teeth, her eyes meeting Winters' with a certain air of defiance. She was not going to appear weak, not now and not ever. Showing weakness was like giving the enemy the high ground. A mistake.

"You're bleeding quite a lot for a graze." Winters retorted drily, his eyebrow arching upwards, unimpressed. Odessa opened her mouth to retort, but no sound came out. Come to think of it, she was bleeding a lot. It was no wonder she felt so light-headed.

"As soon as we get back to Battalion, go find Doc Roe and get that shoulder bandaged up," the Lieutenant continued with a small half-smirk, a little pleased that she hadn't managed to come up with a decent excuse to avoid the help of a medic, "And that's an order, Tereshkova." Of course, he was sure to assert his authority over her, just to be sure she wouldn't ignore his wishes. Odessa let out a small huff of annoyance.

"Yes, sir." she mumbled, eyes dropping to the ground as it passed by slowly underneath her feet. She was less than happy about taking orders from an American. That American being Winters was only a small consolation. No matter how good a soldier he was, and no matter whether he was quickly gaining her respect, he was still American. And she didn't like Americans.

Where had they been the whole war?

Odessa was starting to become irritated with Easy Company and their incessant chatter. They never seemed to stop talking. Liebgott and Guarnere were the worst, with Malarkey not for behind. They all seemed to be having a competition to see who could shout the loudest. At the moment, Guarnere was winning. If Odessa didn't feel like she was going to keel over of exhaustion, she would have punched him.

Caught up in shooting an especially nasty look in the American soldier's direction, she didn't notice as someone fell into step by her side. His boots clunked heavily on the ground, eventually alerting Odessa to his presence. She glanced up warily, her eyes locking on to a pair of deep brown ones. The woman was a little surprised to find Toye walking next to her. Well actually, very surprised. Even in her short time with Easy Company, Odessa had figured he was good friends with Guarnere. And since Guarnere clearly hated her - which she didn't really blame him for - she assumed Toye did as well. Maybe he did, and his aim by walking next to her was to make some insulting comment that Guarnere had no doubt put him up to. Or maybe he really was being friendly.

She was overthinking it.

"What do you want?"

Odessa almost winced at how harsh her voice came out sounding. That hadn't been her intention at all. Why was it that she was incapable of being civil for once?

Even despite her harsh tone, Toye seemed relatively unfazed. He didn't strike her as the kind of person to shy away from something he had put his mind to; and Toye had clearly put his mind to speaking to her. Odessa had no idea why.

"I just wanted to thank you."

She blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

Toye chuckled under his breath, causing her look of bewilderment to morph into a scowl. Now he was just making fun of her.

"Listen, I don't have time for this, so just go back to your--"

"I wanted to thank you for pushing me outta the way of that grenade." Toye cut her off quickly, seeing in her eyes that she had misunderstood. Odessa blinked again, once more bewildered. _He_ was thanking _her?_ For something _she_ did?

Well that was new.

"Uh..." Odessa stuttered dumbly, her mind suddenly going blank of any decent reply. How was she supposed to react to something like that? Was she supposed to say, _'you're welcome'_ ? No, that didn't sound right. Maybe modesty was the best way to handle this. That was what most people did, wasn't it? _'Oh, it's nothing, don't worry about it'_. They act as if it didn't matter, when really it did and they were simply fishing for some sort of praise, or thanks, or _whatever_ they needed to feel good about themselves--

She was overthinking it again.

"You don't need to thank me."

Odessa told him plainly and with her usual neutral expression, although Toye thought perhaps her voice wasn't _quite_ as cold as it usually was. He watched her for a moment with narrowed eyes. Everything about the small blonde woman seemed cold. The way her full lips were set in a thin, disapproving line. The way her piercing blue eyes analysed everything in front of her with absolute scrutiny. She was an open book in that respect. Everything Odessa wanted the world to see, she laid out flat in front of it, clearly on show. But Toye got the feeling she had more depth than that. To him, it was as clear as day that _something_ lay underneath all that ice. _Something,_ he just couldn't figure out _what._

Toye stuck by Odessa's side for the remainder of the trek back to Sainte-Mère-Église, stealing glances at her side profile every now and again. She didn't once remove her gaze from the road ahead, focussing on it like her life depended on it. It could have been the blood loss making her a little loopy, but from the clenching and unclenching of her jaw, Toye thought it might have been something else.

Like she was battling herself.   
  
  
  
  
  


✰✰✰  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Odessa let out yet another loud sigh as her search for Eugene Roe dragged on. Winters had given her no clue as to where the medic might be, and all but disappeared into thin air as soon as their group arrived back at Sainte-Mère-Église. Now the last of the evening light had faded, and Odessa had no idea where Roe was.

She sighed.

Her shoulder was numb. There was no pain anymore, but there wasn't any feeling either. She was glad the burning had subsided, but Odessa didn't know if not being able to feel her limb was good or bad. She supposed it couldn't have been good. A numb limb was one step from losing it altogether, right?

Another sigh.

She had been wandering around Sainte-Mère-Église for hours now. Odessa was receiving some odd looks from the men, who had watched her pass by their sheltered doorframe at least three times. A few of them tried to catch her attention with jeers and catcalls, but - naturally - she paid them no mind. Still, that didn't mean their whistles didn't infuriate her.

Odessa's fingers itched for combat already, and she had only just returned from Brécourt. As she walked further away from the men who were jeering at her, their voices only seemed to get louder. They were following her. Odessa wasn't worried about what they might do - or rather try to do - she was more worried about what Winters would say when he saw her bloody knuckles, and four soldiers trudging past him with matching broken noses. She begged herself to stay calm, to control the urge to whirl round and swing at their ego-inflated heads, but they were making it increasingly difficult. Just _asking_ for a punch in the face. Who would she be to deny them?

"Hey, what's goin' on here?"

Odessa recognised his voice immediately, and suppressed the urge to jump for joy. Eugene Roe's accent was distinct, and she already felt like she would know it anywhere. Spinning round to look past the men who had been following her, she spotted him immediately. Eugene's helmet had been removed, so she could now see just how black his hair was. It looked like the night sky, in the depths of the darkest Russian winters.

"Are these guys botherin' you, ma'am?" Eugene asked with his arms folded sternly, his judgemental gaze making the four men shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"As a matter of fact, they are." Odessa replied, the smirk almost audible in her voice even though neither Eugene nor the irritating American soldiers could see it in the darkness.

"Oh, c'mon! We were just havin' a bit of fun!" one of them tried to defend himself - rather feebly, Odessa noted with a snort - but Eugene was having none of it.

"Well, you've had your fun. Now get lost." he snapped, eyes narrowing to slits. When Odessa had first met Eugene Roe only that morning, he hadn't come across as an authoritative figure at all; rather, the kind of person you would want at your hospital bed to hold your hand and tell you everything was going to be okay. But in a snap, that Eugene Roe was gone, and even Odessa had to admit, he looked a little bit intimidating.

The four irritating soldiers slunk off rather quickly after that, none of them wanting to get on the medic's bad side. Odessa watched them leave with a smirk on her face, which she then turned to Eugene. In an instant, the confident, commanding side of him was gone, replaced with red-faced embarrassment.

"Uh... Lieutenant Winters said you were lookin' for me." Eugene cleared his throat awkwardly, fiddling with his fingers as he took a cautious step towards Odessa. The woman forced the smirk off her face and fought to maintain a neutral expression, both for her sake and for Eugene's. She had no intention of letting him get _anywhere near_ the walls she had put up around herself, even if he was one of the less annoying Americans.

"Yes. He said I should get my shoulder wound checked out." Odessa informed him, tilting her shoulder forwards so he could see it better. Eugene approached cautiously, his eyes squinting in the darkness.

"Let's get back to the aid station. I'll wrap it once we get there." the medic only had to glance at the dark crimson staining Odessa's fingers to know she was losing a dangerous amount of blood. It was a wonder she hadn't passed out already. Eugene hurried her as quickly as he could towards the makeshift aid station in the centre of Sainte-Mère-Église, barrelling through anyone who got in his way. Odessa didn't know what the rush was. She felt fine.

"Go sit down on that cot over there." As soon as she stepped through the door, Eugene ushered her towards a rather uncomfortable looking bed, with springs that looked as though they might pop out at any minute. Odessa reluctantly did as she was told, lowering herself with a wince onto the hard bed. She was right, it was very uncomfortable.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, Eugene returned with a bowl of water and a brown cloth in one hand and a roll of bandages in the other. Odessa watched him take a seat on the cot across from her and lay out all his medical supplies on the thin fabric. Her eyes were once again drawn to his hands. They were tainted with crimson, and calloused from overwork. Just by looking at Eugene's hands she could tell what a busy day it had been for him. They were worn out.

"So, what happened?"

Odessa jumped a little at the sound of his voice. Eugene was watching her with a look of slight concern, his arm half outstretched towards her shoulder.

"Some Nazi sonofabitch shot me." she grumbled, lips turning down into a pout. Eugene chuckled.

"Well, you're lucky it's just a flesh wound. A coupl'a inches to the side and the bullet would'a shattered your shoulder blade." Odessa grimaced, and her shoulder flared up in pain just at the _thought_ of a bullet shattering her shoulder blade.

"I suppose I am quite lucky." the young woman mumbled distractedly. Eugene was moving closer towards her now. He dipped a ragged-looking cloth into the bowl of water, wringing it out a little before it came to hover just by her shoulder. Eugene glanced briefly up at her for assurance, and Odessa nodded, indicating for him to continue.

As soon as the rough cloth touch her wound, the burning pain she had felt on the trek back to Sainte-Mère-Église flared up again, possibly even more intense. Odessa let out a hiss between her teeth when Eugene pressed it further into the torn flesh of her shoulder. The skin around her wound had inflamed without her noticing, and was tender to the touch. Odessa silently cursed herself for not doing anything about it sooner. If she was sent back to an aid station in England or wherever the American hospitals were, Beria would give her mission to another Operative. She couldn't afford to do anything wrong. Her past mistakes still had not been completely forgiven by the NKVD, and she had to work ten times as hard to gain their respect back. Odessa couldn't afford to lose this mission.

"Are you going to send me to a field hospital?" the young woman asked Eugene a little weakly, still adjusting to the feeling of rough cloth being pressed further and further into her torn skin. The medic glanced up from his work only briefly, and a small smile graced his lips.

"If it were up to me I'd send you back. But somethin' tells me it ain't up to me." he commented drily, and Odessa couldn't help but let out a laugh. It was small, but a laugh nonetheless.

"My commander sent me here for a reason, and he won't pull me out without a valid one too."

"Does your commander not care about his soldiers, then?" Suddenly, all jokes went out the window as Eugene frowned disapprovingly, and Odessa's mouth dropped open at his bluntness. The medic ceased his working to fix her with a hard stare, and the woman found she could only gaze back in astonishment. Then she remembered that he was expecting a reply. _Think, Odessa_.

"We're not soldiers, Eugene. We don't operate as soldiers, so we aren't treated as soldiers either. It's just the way it works." She hoped that would satisfy him enough to leave the topic alone, at least for a little while. But Odessa got the feeling her silence had told him more than words could.

Eugene didn't look at all convinced by her answer, but he didn't push it any further. She was thankful for that. He understood that some things simply _couldn't_ be discussed, at least not while the world's nations were still at odds. Odessa was glad someone other than herself understood that.

The two lapsed into a somewhat tense silence as Eugene finished cleaning her shoulder wound. His eyes kept flickering towards her face whenever he thought she might not notice, but Odessa could see it in her peripheral vision. He was trying to figure her out. Everyone she met seemed to do that, but they would never succeed. Odessa had long since made it her mission to become completely unreadable, even to Beria. It was safer that no one knew her - the real her. The real her wasn't the same as the assassin forged in the image of the NKVD.

"So, where about's in Russia are you from?" Eugene broke the tense silence as he moved on to dress her shoulder wound. Odessa knew that he was only trying to distract her from the pain, but it was nice to receive something other than glares from one of the Easy Company men.

"I grew up in Moscow." She spoke carefully. Odessa had to be wary of what she said. Many a time she had witnessed examples of how blood loss can loosen the lips. The NKVD had always taught her to use it to her advantage, so Odessa knew how dangerous it could be. She breathed an internal sigh of relief as Eugene smiled. He had bought the lie.

"Moscow, huh? That's pretty northern, ain't it?" the medic enquired curiously as he began to wrap a long bandage around her shoulder.

"It's not as northern as Leningrad, but I suppose to you Americans it would be."

"D'you get a lotta snow up there?"

Odessa couldn't help but chuckle at his question. That always seemed to be the one thing everyone associated with Russia; snow.

"It snows every winter, sometimes even in the spring as well. But the summers are as warm as some parts of America." she answered with a small, fond smile. Odessa always remembered how much her Mama would gush over the beauty of her home. She never realised just how beautiful the fresh snowfall was until they moved to Russia.

"We don't get a lotta snow where I'm from." Eugene mumbled. His eyes were still focussed on bandaging her wound, but Odessa could see they were glazed with emotion. She supposed it was understandable that he felt a little homesick. She definitely did.

"Where _are_ you from?"

"Bayou Chene in Louisiana."

_"Where?"_

Eugene shook his head ever so slightly, an amused smile playing on his lips. Odessa's forehead creased into a frown. What kind of a word was _Louisiana_ ?

"Louisiana's a state in America." the medic explained, answering her silent question, "It's in the south, between the Mississippi River and the Gulf of Mexico."

_"Mississippi?"_

"It's a-- Ya know what, never mind."

Eugene let out another laugh, louder this time, and much less hollow. Odessa felt her heart lift a little at the sound, for reasons she couldn't explain. Maybe it was because she was used to bringing pain to everyone around her. But Eugene Roe's eyes sparkled, because she had given him something to laugh about. Odessa didn't even mind that it was at her expense.

The medic's smile did not fade, even as he finished bandaging her shoulder and sat back against on the balls of his feet, and Eugene's shining eyes made her want to smile. He was kind; much kinder than the other Americans she had encountered. Odessa had been scorned by them, made fun of, and insulted, all because of who she was. It wasn't that she cared what they thought of her, _oh no_. But it was nice to be treated with something other than contempt. Odessa didn't like Eugene Roe - not yet - but she certainly didn't hate him like the others. He was too kind for the world they lived in. _Much too kind_.

"Your wound wasn't nearly as bad as it looked," Odessa awoke from her trance with a jolt, startled by Eugene's sudden statement, "And it's healed well already. Surprisingly well, actually..." the medic trailed off, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Odessa felt her body tense up. _Oh no_. _Oh no, no, no._ He knew. He had to know. How could she be so _stupid_? It had only been a day, and already she had given herself away. She was supposed to be _careful_ , but he was already suspicious of her! Beria's eyes bore into the back of her head. She could feel them so distinctly, even though he wasn't there. _Watching. Always watching_.

"Anyway, the bandage will need changing in a coupl'a days, but I don't think you'll really need it that much longer." If Eugene noticed her panic, he certainly didn't mention it. His suspicion passed without consequence, and Odessa mentally scolded herself for worrying too much. How could he know anything, after all? The Americans thought they knew the NKVD. But they didn't. They knew _nothing_.

"Do you - uh - will I be able to fight? To go back into combat, I mean?" the woman winced at how hoarse her voice sounded, a result of the sudden dryness in her throat.

"I don't think there's anythin' I can do to stop ya." Eugene sighed, but the amusement still lingered in his voice. Just listening to his rich, soothing accent was enough to put Odessa at ease again. The painful clenching in her heart slowly released. "But if I were you, I'd be careful. It wouldn't take a lot to reopen that wound." He added in a slightly more serious tone. Odessa shot him a reassuring smile. It wasn't soft or friendly, but it wasn't cold like her eyes either. Eugene was taken aback by the youthfulness of it.

"Don't worry about me. I'm always careful." the young woman replied, feeling a smirk tug at her lips. Eugene let out a bark of laughter.

"Somehow, I find that very hard to believe."  
  
  
  
  
  


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When Odessa settled down for the night inside an abandoned bakery, her heart and her head were at war. Much had changed only in the past day, and she didn't like change. Daria wasn't there to guide her anymore. She wasn't there to be the person she leaned on, the one she went to for help and advice. Odessa was alone, fighting a war alongside those who had the title _'ally'_ , but who Beria and Stalin had always deemed their enemies. Eugene Roe didn't seem like an enemy. Neither did Liebgott, or Toye, or Malarkey, or even Guarnere. Odessa was more afraid of her own people, than the Americans her country's leader had spoken so ill of. Lieutenant Winters was a better leader than the ones she knew in the NKVD. He protected his men. Beria would never do that. To him, she and all the other NKVD Operatives were expendable; pawns in his little game of war. He held the strings controlling Odessa, the ones she had been unable to escape for so long.

Odessa's head was at war with her heart. Logic told her not to trust, to stay detached and suspicious of these Americans. They were the enemy, after all. But her heart told her they weren't all Stalin and Beria had said. Maybe - just maybe - they weren't so different from her.


	7. suspicious we are, we women who walk the earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odessa's first encounter with George Luz

_June 8th 1944 - Normandy, France_   
  


**ODESSA WISHED SHE HAD ASKED EUGENE FOR SOME PAINKILLERS.** Although her shoulder wound wasn't bleeding anymore, it still hurt like a bitch. In her mind, there were two types of pain; the kind that persists, and the kind that doesn't. A gunshot wound was definitely of the persistent variety.

Alcohol was doing little to ease the burning in her shoulder. Odessa only ever reached for her flask when times were desperate. The vodka she kept stashed away in one of her many hidden pockets was very rare, especially since the Revolution. It had been a favourite of Tsar Nicholas II all throughout his rein, which explained why it was so expensive, and in such short supply. Odessa was sure she had broken almost every rule in the metaphorical NKVD book to obtain even the smallest bottle. But she had always been partial to Kors vodka.

Despite her fondness for it, the alcohol did little to affect her at all, no matter how much she wished it to. Ever since she first started drinking, Odessa found she had a much higher alcohol tolerance than most men. And it had earned her a rouble or two on her late night adventures to the forbidden taverns in Moscow. Drinking competitions had always been one of her favourite pastimes whenever she had a little time off from the NKVD. But she hadn't been for years. Memories can be triggered by the smallest things.

Now, Odessa drank to numb the pain.

_"I'm tellin' ya, she's a fuckin' lunatic."_

The men thought she couldn't hear their hushed conversations, or see their not-so-secretive side glances. Odessa knew they were talking about her. She wasn't sure what to feel about Guarnere's blunt opinion of her. It didn't make much sense that he hated her so much already, after all, they had barely known each other for a few days.

_"C'mon, Guarno. She's just a girl."_

Toye's opinion of her was possibly even worse. There was a time when she would have been content with being 'just a girl', but things were very different now. The fear her enemies felt grip their hearts when she stood before them was all that was keeping her alive. The NKVD preyed on fear.

_"She ain't just some girl, Joe. I saw her snap a guy's neck between her legs, for Christ's sake!"_

Liebgott seemed wary of her, and she was almost glad he did. Odessa knew it was probably better that than him trusting her. A certain amount of suspicion was always healthy, Beria used to say. She supposed he had been right about that.

Odessa decided to tune the Americans out after not very long. Their words were not hurtful - at least not to her - but she despised that they were too cowardly to say it all to her face, instead of hiding behind glares and whispers. Odessa would much rather they were upfront about it. She might have respected them a little more.

"Well, look who decided to show up, Floyd!"

The woman grunted in annoyance as one of the Americans - a man with fluffed-up brown hair and wide eyes that made him look a little akin to a puppy - walked with open arms towards a group of soldiers heading their way. From the mud on their uniforms, and the black paint still partially smeared across their faces, she assumed they had only just arrived. When Liebgott said Easy Company had been scattered across the beach, he had failed to mention just _how_ scattered. Many of them hadn't even made it to the rendezvous point two days later.

"Thought we'd never find you." the leading soldier visibly deflated with relief as he was patted on the back by his comrades. Odessa studied him for a moment, taking in his undeniably handsome features. It was particularly irritating when she had to work alongside regular soldiers. The military was not in short supply of good-looking men, and boy did they know it. Every soldier - American, British and even Red Army - believed they could try their luck with any woman they came across. Odessa was determined not to be one of their targets. There was no time for love in a war such as this.

"Hey, Tab!" Liebgott greeted the leading soldier with the strange name of 'Tab' with a cheerful grin, "Get a load of this!" he then proceeded to to pull out a long piece of red fabric from his pack, and brandished it in front of his friends with a flourish. Only upon closer inspection did Odessa realise exactly what it was; a Nazi flag.

The Americans soon begun to gush over it like a bunch of schoolgirls ogling the latest Coco Chanel dress through a shop window, and Odessa wanted to go over there and rip the damn thing to shreds. No, she wanted to _burn_ it. She wanted to burn the Nazis out of their very existence. How could they admire such a thing, after everything Hitler and his _puppets_ had done? They were monstrous. All the Nazis deserved was a fiery death.

"Hey, doll!"

Odessa only realised she had been digging in her nails a little too hard when the voice of an American snapped her out of her trance. It was the soldier who had lead his group into Sainte-Mère-Église - the good-looking one. He had approached without her noticing, and was standing a mere three feet away, a smirk playing on his lips. Odessa wanted to slap it right off his face.

"You should smile more. It would suit ya more than that scowl."

The woman felt her blood boil at his words, and her hands clenched into tight fists by her sides. The American's friends - including Liebgott and the man who looked like a puppy - formed a tight semi-circle around him, watching in anticipation to see what she would do. Most of them knew by now that Odessa didn't take shit from anyone. It was a shame Tab hadn't got the memo.

"I'll smile whenever the hell I want." Odessa spat, standing abruptly from her uncomfortable seat on the stone wall in the village square. Ever so slowly, as the realisation sunk in, the man's smirk faded, quickly being replaced by a look of disbelief.

"Wait a second-- you're not American." 'Tab' stuttered dumbly, triggering a loud scoff from Odessa.

"Oh, well deduced. Nothing gets past you." the young woman retorted sarcastically, reaching for her flask at the same time and taking one big gulp. The burning sensation as the vodka slipped down her throat was familiar. Soothing.

"Who the hell is this broad?" the man glanced around at his friends disbelievingly, but they were all too busy trying to conceal their laughter - or in Guarnere's case, shooting Odessa a nasty glare - to take note of his question.

"My name's Odessa. But you can call me Agent Tereshkova."

"Agent? Like a fuckin' spy?"

"That is generally what the term means, yes."

"This is insane." 'Tab' muttered to himself, running a hand over his face wearily, "Is Sink out of his mind lettin' a fuckin' Commie into the Airborne?" Odessa's eyes narrowed into slits, something glinting dangerously within them, which made every man simultaneously recoil.

"Don't call me that." the woman growled, her fists clenching even harder. There were bloody, crescent moons in her palms again, but she was too angry to care.

"Why shouldn't I?" 'Tab' continued, making the fatal mistake of underestimating her fury, "It's what you Russians are, ain't it? Communists?" The tension was rising rapidly, and everyone seemed to be able to feel it, except for the one irritating American who didn't seem to be able to keep his mouth shut. Odessa was sure if she looked down, there would be blood spilling onto the floor from the crescent moons in her palms. She didn't _care_ whether the Americans called her insane, or if they openly showed their distrust to her. It was nothing she hadn't handled before, after all. But Odessa refused to be called a 'Commie'. She was not, and nor would she ever be, a Communist. They were the people who had brought famine and death to her proud country. No, Odessa was not a Communist.

"I'll have you know--"

"Alright, alright! Let's all just calm down." Odessa's aggressive reply was hastily cut off by the man with fluffy hair. She was almost glad that he had intervened; if he hadn't, Odessa didn't what she would have done to 'Tab.'

"Fuckin' Ruskie." was all the irritating American said, before him and his friends slunk off to no doubt compare the souvenirs they had collected off the half-rotted corpses of German soldiers. Odessa's brow creased in frustration as an especially angry retort bubbled up in her chest. But she held it back, deciding to use some of the self-control the NKVD had taught her for all these years. 'Tab' was not worth it.

Odessa threw herself back down into a seated position on stone wall with a huff, taking one last rather aggressive swig from her flask. She tried to focus on the burning liquid as it slipped down her throat, but anger and resentment was corrosive. This 'Tab' person knew nothing about her, yet had the audacity to accuse her of being a communist. If only he knew - if only _any_ of them knew - what Stalin's regime had done to Odessa and her family. Then they would be laughing on the other sides of their faces.

"So you're a spy, huh?" Odessa glanced up in surprise as someone came to sit beside her on the wall. It was the man who looked like a puppy-dog, the only one who had had the guts to intervene before she punched 'Tab' in the face. The least she could do was be civil, to thank him for saving her dignity. But Odessa being Odessa, and Odessa being ever so slightly drunk, her intended smile came out as a harsh glare.

"I'm an assassin. What's it to you?"

The young woman internally cringed, half expecting the American to turn on his heel and run away, this time looking like a _kicked_ puppy. But he did not seem in the slightest bit fazed by her harshness.

"I was just thinkin' about how my brother would have a field day if he knew I was fightin' with a secret agent."

Odessa looked up at the American and blinked. Instead of the glare she had expected, he wore a wide grin that hurt her cheeks just to look at. Now she was very, very confused.

"My name's George Luz, by the way."

"Right."

"And you're Odessa."

The woman blinked again. This American - Luz - was being _nice_ to her. There was no sarcastic undertone to his voice, there were no glares shot at the side of her face when he thought she wasn't looking. He was simply talking to her. Odessa wondered what exactly he was trying to accomplish.

"Ya know, everyone keeps sayin' that you're just some cold-blooded killer. But I don't buy it." Luz glanced down at her with narrowed eyes and a half-smirk. Odessa could only stare back at him, her mouth agape in astonishment. It was certainly surprising to come across an American who seemed to have no aversion to her; or more specifically, to the kind of person she was. Russia and America weren't exactly on friendly terms, even if they were allies. It was more a mutual agreement of interest. Odessa knew all too well that the Americans didn't like her people, but that was okay, because her people didn't particularly like them either.

George Luz was an anomaly.

"Don't talk much do ya?" Shaking her head to refocus, Odessa met the American's eyes and frowned.

"I'm not much of a talker."

"Well, that's alright. I like the quiet ones. Means we ain't competin' to be the centre of attention all the time--"

"Why are you here, Luz?" Odessa quickly cut him off, getting the feeling that if she didn't, he would go on for hours. Luz's bright smile faded only a little.

"You looked a little lonely sittin' here all by yourself." He replied, gesturing towards the stone wall that she hadn't moved from since the early morning. Odessa felt like she should have smiled - he was, after all, making an effort to be nice to her - but somehow she found herself scowling once again.

"I would prefer to be left alone, if you don't mind."

Odessa couldn't even control the words that came out of her mouth anymore.

"Well, I'm afraid you're gonna have to get used to havin' me around, Odessa. I don't give up very easy, ya see." Luz retorted with a cheeky smirk, which the Russian woman found herself not completely despising. It gave her a sense of familiarity.

Before Odessa had the chance to come up with a smart reply, both their heads were turned by sudden movement from the other soldiers. They were all collecting their weapons and ammo, rising reluctantly from their relatively comfortable positions. The atmosphere had been comfortable before, almost lively, but now they all knew it was time to move out, the air grew thick with tension.

Odessa glanced at Luz out of the corner of her eye, and her heart sank to realise his grin had finally fallen. Even though she would never admit it out loud, it was nice to have been treated with something other than hatred or fear; even if it was only for a short time. Maybe, deep down inside, she hoped that Luz would keep his word, and not leave her alone until they were somewhat friendly. But Odessa wasn't naïve enough to believe that he would stick around for too long. No one ever did.

Still, it couldn't hurt to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HISTORICAL NOTES
> 
> this isn't strictly historical, but i just wanted to explain why odessa hates communism so much. you might wonder why - if it had such an awful effect on her family - she is even working for the NKVD in the first place. all i have to say on the matter is that odessa had no choice. she was forced into it from a young age, and the only reason she stayed after discovering the full extent of what the NKVD does, was because she wanted to protect her family. odessa knows that leaving isn't an option if she wants them to live.
> 
> so, i hope that cleared up any confusion! there will be a lot more on odessa's position within the NKVD, and a little bit of backstory, in the next chapters to come.
> 
> happy reading!
> 
> rose <3

**Author's Note:**

> this story was previously know as Roses Are Red
> 
> VENTURIS VENTIS is a story based loosely off the real accounts of female spies and resistance fighters of WWII, but with my own added twist. while VENTURIS VENTIS is also based on the HBO Miniseries, Band of Brothers, some details will be slightly altered to fit with my storyline.
> 
> while writing VENTURIS VENTIS, i have done my best to be historically accurate, however i may not have gotten every single detail right. in some cases, historical facts will be slightly altered to fit in with the story.
> 
> my portrayal of the Soviet Union and the NKVD is created from my own opinions, developed after doing hours of research on the topic. however, some details are exaggerated for dramatic effect, in ways i thought would add to the plot of VENTURIS VENTIS. (the NKVD did not carry out experiments on its operatives, that is simply a figment of my own imagination.)
> 
> please be aware that VENTURIS VENTIS is rated mature for a reason. within the story, there will be graphic descriptions of injury, death, emotional trauma, period typical sexism, period typical Anti-semitism, foul language and some mentions of ethnic slurs. if any of these things are triggering to you, i would reccomend skipping the chapters with a trigger warning (i will try my best to include these) or simply finding another book to read. VENTURIS VENTIS is about war, and my aim is to be as accurate as possible. that means it will have mature themes.
> 
> i hope you enjoy reading VENTURIS VENTIS. i have put in a lot of time and effort amongst a hectic schedule to try and update as regularly and consistently as possible. i will not always be able to do this, but i certainly will try my best.
> 
> please vote, comment and share, any form of support for VENTURIS VENTIS really would mean the world to me!
> 
> happy reading!
> 
> rose <3


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